


Best Birthday Ever

by Emmilyne



Series: Season 5 deviation-verse [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Cannon deviation, F/M, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmilyne/pseuds/Emmilyne
Summary: What if Felicity hadn’t decided to go with a team surprise party for Oliver’s Birthday?What if she decided she was sick of baby steps and wanted to take some big girl steps?What if Felicity decided the very best way to celebrate was to make Oliver’s birthday cake and present…well, her?A sort of “Choose Your Own Adventure” off-shoot/AU of Don’t Let Me Go, branching off after Chapter 3 into a whole other universe.





	1. Cupcakes and Candles

**Author's Note:**

> This (not so little) two-parter was inspired by the moment in **Chapter 4** of **(Don’t) Let Me Go** when Felicity thinks about her drunken fantasy of how she _wanted_ to celebrate Oliver’s birthday.  It does reference events in chapters 1-3 (where Oliver and Felicity have off screen conversations, set during 5x20 and 5x21) and is a ‘what if’ spin-off of that story, where Felicity throws Oliver a _whole_ different sort of party.  A very “E” rated party.  If you haven’t read **(Don’t) Let Me Go** this will feel like a big jump emotionally from what you see with Oliver and Felicity on screen in 5x20 and 5x21.
> 
> Chapter 5 of **(Don’t) Let Me Go** will continue next week, but for now, please enjoy the smutty and (somewhat) less angsty fun.  I hope you love it!

The doorbell rang at exactly 7:00pm.  As if Oliver had been standing outside the door, waiting for the clock to switch over.

Mr. I’m-Going-To-Be-Late-For-My-Own-Funeral rang the doorbell at the _precise_ time Felicity had told him to come over.

And, even though, the sound was completely expected, it, somehow, made Felicity jump.  Her heart sped up and lodged itself somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as panic set in. 

Oh _God_ , she should have gone with the surprise party that Thea suggested.  Or, _hell_ , she could have just ordered take-out from Santino’s and had a lovely candlelit dinner for two.  They could have had a nice, _normal_ , romantic evening.  Felicity could have bought Oliver a _normal_ gift and they could have talked, something much more appropriate to… _wherever_ the hell they were in this new relationship… _thing_.

But, _instead_ , Felicity had decided to skip over all those lovely steps, those more _logical_ options, and instead—

“Felicity?”

Oliver’s voice drifted up the staircase.  Thankfully, he must have _finally_ realized that he was supposed to come right in. 

“Felicity!”

She bit her lip to keep from responding.  That was _not_ the plan.  She had made lovely signs that made it very clear that Oliver was supposed to come up to meet her in their… _her_ bedroom. 

Well, maybe, theirs, again, soon…hopefully… _ugh_!

Okay, so, the real issue here, as Felicity tried to be patient and stick to the plan was…what if the plan _sucked_?

What if it was a _stupid_ plan?

Oliver had said that they should take things one step at a time.  Dinner was one one step at a time.  A reasonable _next_ step.  A birthday… _sexcapade_ , not so much.

Okay, deep breath.  Felicity needed to get ahold of her racing thoughts.  It wasn’t _that_ bad. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t _already_ talked.  In fact, they had kinda sort of bared their souls over the last two weeks.  They had admitted they were still in love.  They’d agreed to move forward.  They’d kissed (even if Oliver insisted drunk kisses didn’t ‘count’).

Sex wasn’t _that_ big a leap.  Right?

It wasn’t like they were _eloping?_  Or as if Felicity was hiding a ring in one of the copious cupcakes that she had scattered around the room.   Or even a key to the Loft (which would be purely symbolic since she’d never changed the locks and Oliver could pretty much get in anytime he wanted).

“Felicity…”

His voice was closer this time and if Felicity listened carefully she could hear Oliver’s feet on the stairs. 

She gave a little “Eep,” and hurried over to the mirror to smooth down her hair and…

Dear _God_!  Had she really thought this was _sexy_?  Felicity looked…absolutely _ridiculous_.  And, also, far too presumptuous.   This wasn’t how a woman dressed at the beginning of _any_ relationship.  It was presumptuous and slutty and silly and…

Felicity heard the click of his shoes and she snatched up her robe, the green silk one Oliver had always loved, and quickly pulled it on.  Tying the knot (maybe a little too tightly) around her waist, she scooped up the cupcake she had prepared earlier and hurried to light the candle.

The footsteps stopped outside of the door, undoubtedly reading the sign Felicity had written, and, maybe, hesitating…

Oh _frak_.

Felicity hands shook, making lighting the candle take way longer than it should.  Oh shoot.  Oh frak, this was so _stupid_.  Could she still abort?  Was there a way to turn back now?

The door snitcked and started to open. 

Nope, no turning back…

Three…two…

“Felicity?”

One.

Forcing herself to smile through her _overwhelming_ anxiety, Felicity turned to Oliver and called out, “Happy Birthday!”

Did that sound forced?  Over the top? Too loud?  _Help_.

Oh God, Felicity _so_ should have gone with the surprise party.  The one that came with _backup_.

“Fe….”

Well, Oliver certainly looked _surprised_.  He trailed off, his mouth hanging open…his eyes wide…his…

Felicity didn’t think she had ever seen Oliver quite _this_ shocked before.  She tried to think of something coherent to say, but the only thing her brain could come up with was ‘Happy Birthday’ and she’d already said that.  Saying it again would be super weird.  Wouldn’t it?

So, instead, Felicity just pointedly looked around the room, hoping Oliver’s eyes would follow hers and draw their own conclusions, even if the rest of his body was frozen in shock. 

But as Felicity took in the room herself…crap! She had _definitely_ gone overboard.

The room was scattered with tables that were covered with frothy green cupcakes and green and white candles (some of them even had tiny arrows carved in the sides).  There were new sheets on the bed.  Satin.  Forest Green.  There was even a ‘Happy Birthday, Oliver’ sign across the window (the extra privacy was a plus).  Champagne was set up on the dresser…

Champagne that Felicity had only had a _single_ sip of.  Goddamn, Oliver and his ‘ _the first time needs to be sober’_ rule, because this would be _so_ much easier after a _glass_ of champagne.  Or five.

Felicity had even ordered several dozen green and white balloons, but it turned out that if they floated too close to the candles they made random popping noises that sounded like gun shots…which was, _maybe_ , not the atmosphere Felicity was going for.  So instead, she had tied them to the banister to create a path for Oliver to follow to the bedroom.

“Wh…what…?” Oliver sputtered.  “ _Felicity_ …?”

This wasn’t exactly the response Felicity had been hoping for.  She had expected surprise.  Maybe even a little shock, but she had also…hoped for, maybe…some excited laughter and lust filled eyes? 

And if Felicity was very lucky, Oliver would have even taken some initiative to move things forward.  That would have been _very_ good for her nerves. 

But, instead, Felicity got…complete confusion.  A deer in the head-lights expression.   _Frak_.

Deflated, Felicity squeezed her eyes closed.  “This was such a dumb idea.”  She blew out the candle and plopped the cupcake back on the nightstand.  “I don’t even know why I thought I could pull this off.  I should have thrown a nice surprise party with Thea and the team.  Or made a reservation at Table Salt like a _normal_ person.  But, no, I had to go _big_.  And sexy.  How the hell did I think _I_ was going to pull off _sexy_ —?”

She jumped when she felt Oliver’s hands on her shoulders.  How did he move so damn fast?

“ _Felicity_ …”

Snapping her mouth shut, Felicity cut off the flow of embarrassing word-vomit and endeavored to not look as utterly miserable as she felt.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered, his hands skimming down her silk sleeves.  There was a small smile on his face that reached all the way to his eyes and that did hell of a lot to calm her nerves.  “Felicity, honey, you are _so_ fucking sexy.  Trust me, that is _not_ the problem—”

“But there _is_ a problem!” She knew it!  “It’s that you said we should take things one step at a time, right?  And this…” Felicity hand flew (a little too widely) to gesture around the room. “Is a pretty fraking _big_ step.”

Oliver’s nose wrinkled up.  “ _Weelll_ …”

Yup, that was Oliver’s I-don’t-want-to-hurt-Felicity’s-feelings-but- _yes_ face.

_Damn_ it!

“It just…I tried to plan a ‘regular date’ and it…it…” Felicity tried to explain, but…great, here came the babbling.  _Again_.  “It seemed so weird and unnatural and we already know _everything_ about one another.  Okay, maybe not _everything_ , because no one knows _everything_ , but it’s not like a dinner out is going to bring up huge revelations.  We’ve talked about all the stuff we _need_ to talk about already and, so…that kind of date just felt like a step backwards and…”

Okay, Oliver was smiling.  That was a good sign.  Felicity let herself keeping going.  Apparently, she was on a roll.  “So really…it’s not _that_ big of a step.  It’s _just_ sex.”

And…Oliver’s face fell, his hands clenching at her elbows.

Felicity so should have stopped while she was ahead.  “Did I say _just_ sex.  I know it’s never _just_ sex—”

“Felicity—”

“Especially with us, it’s always—”

And Oliver stopped her with his lips and…yeah, that was…that was good.  _Very_ good.  Especially since it seemed like his plan to simply press his lips to Felicity’s to stop the frantic tumble of words went awry and, instead of pulling back, he paused, gently moving his lips against hers and…

Felicity whimpered a little, stretching up and returning the kiss with all of the pent-up energy and the desire and…she had _missed_ this.   _God_ , she missed this.  It had been a _long_ time.  Too long.

Okay, they had kissed a few nights ago, but…well, they’d been drunk and had decided it didn’t ‘count’ and…

Oliver gently sucked on Felicity’s bottom lip and she completely lost her train of thought, letting out a moan… _sooo good_.  Her mouth fell open and Oliver took it as the invitation it was (premeditated or otherwise) and his tongue joined the party, softly at first, tenderly nipping, rubbing, tasting…

Felicity wound her arm around his neck and, using one hand to cup his nape, she pulled him to her.  A small growl vibrated from Oliver’s throat as she angled her head to get just a little bit closer, a little bit… _more_ so their tongues could stroke each other in that lovely wet glide that she would gladly engage in forever.

When Oliver drew back, it felt abrupt.  The loss acute.  Even though Felicity was pretty sure he eased away slowly.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity whimpered, trying to pull him back to her.

“Felicity, honey…” Oliver stroked one hand down her face, the other still wrapped around her waist.  He was short of breath and his eyes were unfocused.  _Good_.  “There’s just one thing we need to talk about.  Before…”

Oliver left her hanging and, while Felicity knew what the ‘ _before’_ meant, she had no idea what   there was left to _say_.   

But she was still pressed awfully close and could feel how much the _rest_ of his body was ready to skip to the _after_ …or at least the _next_ part, so she tried not to be discouraged.  Wow, Oliver was just…wearing _way_ too many clothes.

And he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, so Felicity murmured, “Anything.  We can talk about _anything_.”

She had no _desire_ to talk about anything, beyond the flavor of the cupcakes and the color of the sheets…but whatever Oliver wanted.  Felicity pushed up onto her tip-toes to press against him, enjoying the hardness against her belly and the way his shirt pulled across his chest.   

Felicity would prefer it if the ‘ _anything’_ was quick, though, because she hadn’t had nearly the opportunity she would have liked to have to enjoy Oliver’s new mayoral wardrobe and that was something she needed to remedy.  Preferably now.  For example, she was quite certain that this suit would look gorgeous on her floor. 

Couldn’t they talk _later_?  Felicity slipped her hands under Oliver’s jacket and, _wow_ , that was a nice thread count…

But Oliver trapped her hands against his chest, not letting them wander any further.  Blah.  Felicity’s eyes flew to his and…

_Oh_ …serious face. 

Dang it!  That wasn’t good.  Oliver looked worried and…Felicity froze, her anxiety starting to build again.  When would they be _done_ with all this?  When could they go back to…just being _them_.

“Felicity…” Oliver took a breath, then swallowed, before meeting her eyes and continuing, “What is… _all_ _this_?”  He looked around the room and…

Felicity thought they’d covered that.  And, also…obvious?  “Uh…your birthday present?”

Oliver huffed out a soft laugh. “ _This_ is my present?”

He looked _really_ confused.  And…Felicity’s anxiety went through the roof.  Because Oliver really shouldn’t be _this_ confused. “I should have gotten you a normal present, shouldn’t I?”

“ _No_!” Oliver jumped in, looking concerned that he might have insulted her and…Felicity wasn’t sure if he had or not.  She found his confusion… _confusing_.

“I knew I should have gotten you something normal.  Like socks.  You love socks—”

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver laughed, trying to stop her from going off on a tangent, she knew, but the anxiety train had left the station and was careening off for God knows where.

“But I…that didn’t seem personal enough,” Felicity tried to explain, though, she really wished she could stop talking.  “And what do you get the guy who used to have everything and now doesn’t, but really doesn’t care and lives in a Bunker despite able to afford a whole lot better—”

“Felicity, sweetheart, I didn’t mean—”

“I’m getting off topic, I know.”

“Yes, but—”

“I just kept thinking,” Felicity really, didn’t know why she wouldn’t let Oliver interrupt her, “that what you _really_ wanted was…well, it sounds really arrogant now, but I thought, maybe, what you wanted most was… _me_.”

“ _Christ_!”  Oliver took a hissing breath.

Frak.  Frak.  Frak.  What was wrong with her?  “But that’s really presumptuous and—”

Oliver shook his head frantically, his eyes wide, but Felicity was certain he was just trying to make her feel better.  “No!  _No_ , not presumptuous.  At _all_ —”

Felicity wished she could believe that.  She also wished she would _stop talking_.  “And conceited and—”

“Absolutely _not_ conceited,” Oliver rushed to assure, his voice raising just a bit. “And _absolutely_ accurate.”

“And I… _Oh_.” 

_That_ took Felicity off guard.  And, along with the look on Oliver’s face, finally, it made her grind to a halt and look into his eyes and, yeah, he seemed to mean it, so…she took a very relieved breath.  Biting her lip, her fingers fell to his tie and began fiddling with it. 

“So, yeah, _this_ is my brilliant idea.  I’m your birthday present.  Surprise!”  Lord, that was lame.  Sometimes, Felicity had no idea why Oliver was even attracted to her.

It would help if he said _something_.   But instead, Oliver seemed to be holding his breath, looking shocked again. 

“Yeah…it sounded so much more romantic in my head.” Much less like Felicity was a hooker.  “Now, it just sounds weird and sleazy.”

“ _Nooooo_ , not sleazy,” Oliver shook his head, all he seemed to be able to do was disagree with her.  “Trust me.” 

“You should have seen my other idea,” Felicity told his tie.  Oliver’s tie was very easy to talk to.  “This is classy in comparison.  I had this idea that _I_ was going to be the cake…you know, since I can’t bake…and lie on the bed dressed in nothing but frosting.” Why was she telling him this?  “But—”

This time, Oliver cut her off with a growl, yanking her to him, until Felicity was crushed full-length against him.  And, well, at least this was turning him on.  His tongue was in her mouth was an excellent clue.

Oliver was rougher this time.  More insistent.  More… _fantastic_.

It was impossible for Felicity not to respond in kind.  And when she did, when she slid her tongue against his, Oliver drew it into his mouth and sucked on it like he need it to live.

Maybe, Felicity should have gone with the dressed in frosting plan after all.

Oliver _did_ pull away abruptly this time, turning his head to the side as if it was the only way he could make himself stop.  (It was very reassuring.)  His lips remained wet and parted.  He was panting, his eyes blown…

“ _Fuck_ , Felicity!”

“That’s the idea.” 

Did she just say that out loud?  Oops.  But, really, Felicity didn’t know why they were stopping.  Talking was awkward and anxiety provoking.  Kissing was…good.

Oliver’s laugh sounded out of breath, one part hysterical and two parts delirious.  “Felicity, I—”

“ _Oliver_ —”

This time, Oliver stopped her with two fingers pressed against her lips.  “Honey, I need you to let me finish my thought.  As much as I love your rambles…”

Biting her lip, Felicity nodded.  Though, that awkward feeling, like she was making a fool of herself…it may have doubled. 

“This is all… _incredible_ , but…”

God, Felicity hated ‘but’s.

“...what I was trying to say before was…I need to…” Oliver gave a frustrated huff, frowning.  But it seemed pretty clear that he was frustrated with himself, not her.  “I need to make one-hundred percent sure that this isn’t just a _tonight_ thing.  Or even a…this is for your birthday and tomorrow _we’ll see_ thing, because…”

Oliver was still struggling with his words, but Felicity felt her anxiety start to float away as she finally started to understand.  If he just hesitating because he was insecure…well, _that_ she could handle.  Easily.

“I’m not sure I can do this, if I don’t get to wake up with you,” Oliver continued and he still seemed tongue tied.  It was adorable.  “Not as in wake up next to you, as in wake up _together_ …as in in a _relationship_ together.”  Grimacing, Oliver ran a hand over his face.  “God, if the kids from Starling Prep could see me now.”

Dear Lord, he was just all sorts of delectable.  Felicity pushed Oliver’s hands away from his face so she could cup his cheeks and smile up at him.  “Oliver…” She ran her thumbs over his cheekbones.  _God_ , how she loved him.  “I thought we had already established that we were together.  As in together, _together_.  In a _relationship,_ together.”

All the tension drained out of him in whoosh and Oliver smiled.  Felicity’s favorite smile.  The one that made his dimples pop as he went all doughy and lovey dovey.  Yup, just some lingering insecurities that she needed to reassure.  Thank _goodness_.

Oliver pulled Felicity closer.  “I wasn’t sure.  I know we discussed it last week, but…we were both drunk, so I wasn’t sure that it counted…”

“Ugh, you and your drunk thing!” But Felicity was smiling.  The relief was dizzying.    “I wasn’t so drunk that I was going to say something I didn’t mean.  Were you?”  Though, she knew the answer to that one.  Clearly, he meant every word.  _She_ had never doubted it.

If possible, Oliver relaxed even further, shaking his head.  “No, but this summer—”

This summer.  Felicity would forever regret how _this summer_ went down.  “Oliver this summer was a mess, because _we_ ,” she pointed between them, “were a mess.  The wine was…just an excuse for us to forget that for a little while.”

Chuckling, Oliver kissed her nose.  “As long as we’re on the same page now.”

“Same page.  Same paragraph.  Same _sentence_ …” Felicity pulled Oliver down by his tie and answered his growl by sinking her teeth gently into his lower lip and sucking it between hers.  “Now that that’s clear,” she murmured against his lips, “can we have some champagne without worrying about it clouding our judgement?”

“I think we can do that,” Oliver’s voice was low and husky.  He punctuated it with a gentle nip to her lip.  Felicity could feel the change in his body.  The loss of tension, the way he now eased into her, all hesitant gone.  He ran his mouth from her cheek to her ear to whisper, “I think we’re about done with the talking part of the evening anyway.”

Well, thank fraking _God_.

Felicity swore that her eyes rolled up into her head at that particular promise as shocks of electricity (the good kind.  The really, _really_ good kind) skittered along her skin and she thought that, maybe, her legs got a little wobbly.

Bye, bye talking.  Good riddance.

Clearing her throat, Felicity said, “Toasts first.”  Now that they were on the same page, she could precede with her plans with confidence.

Luckily, Felicity didn’t have to pull out of his arms to get the champagne.  She just, sort of, leaned over and snatched up two glasses, handing one to Oliver.  Of course, that meant he had to take one of his hands off of her waist, which sucked, but that would be rectified soon enough.

Felicity placed her free hand on Oliver’s chest and smiled up at him.  “To only good birthdays from now on.”

Oliver did that thing, that thing where he tipped his head down and gazed up at her through his unfairly long eyelashes.  It always made Felicity simultaneously hot and bothered and soft and melty.  It was a weird contrast. 

Although, heat did melt things…huh…guess, it wasn’t that weird after all.

“Together,” Oliver added, all soft and heartfelt.

Clearly, he was trying to kill her. 

“Together,” Felicity echoed, her voice unreasonably thick.  But she did manage to hold Oliver’s gaze as they clinked glasses and drank. 

Felicity gulped down half a glass of champagne.  She could use it and she didn’t know if she’d be getting another chance at it any time soon.  She was planning on having her hands rather busy.

Chuckling, Oliver pulled the glass from her mouth and replaced it with his lips.  He tasted like champagne, his tongue cool and languid against hers as he sampled every inch of her mouth.  Slowly.  Savoring.  It was a very good thing that he had taken the glass, because Felicity was fairly certain she would have dropped it.  She was beginning to feel very drunk and was pretty _damn_ certain that it had little to do with the alcohol.

But Felicity forced herself to pull back.  It was just an inch, but they were no longer kissing so it felt like so much more.  “One more thing first.”

Oliver blinked his eyes open, so close to hers that Felicity thought, maybe, she could feel the sweep of his eyelashes.  His tongue slipped out to wet his lips, as if he were trying to capture that last lingering taste of her.  _Or_ kill her. 

“What’s that?” Oliver murmured.

What _was_ that?  Felicity was having a hard time remembering.  Or tearing her eyes from his lips.  “You uhhh…”  There was a thought there, but what was it?  She pressed her tongue to her upper teeth as she tried to focus, but that backfired as she was further distracted by Oliver’s laser focus on said tongue. “You have to…”

Oh right.  _Now_ Felicity remembered! 

“You have to blow out your candle.”

Oliver’s eyes jumped back to hers and his smile spread, a wide and delighted smile.  Thankfully, it also got him to pull back just enough for Felicity catch her breath.  “Then, by all means, let’s blow out that candle.”

He turned and placed his glass on the dresser as well.  Felicity stepped out of his arms, while she had the opportunity (and the will, as small as it was), and hurried to the side table to relight the candle.

As Felicity turned away, Oliver’s hand fell on her ass, in what seemed to start out as a playful pat, but then lingered, feeling…

Leaning in, Oliver whispered in Felicity’s ear, “What are you wearing?”  Amusement was clear in his voice and…

_Uh oh._

Felicity blushed, fumbling the lighter.  She’d forgotten about the panties.  Or, maybe, she had blocked them out of her mind.  _The panties_ may have been a _little bit_ overboard.  And she couldn’t imagine that they felt all that sexy under the silk robe.  Dammit!

Blowing out a (not so) calming breath, Felicity managed to light the candle and turn back to Oliver.  “You’ll see.”  She tried to keep her voice sultry (though, she doubted she succeeded) and held up the cupcake.

Eyes crinkling in mirth, Oliver’s smile widened.  “Felicity is that an _arrow_ candle?”

Felicity grinned.  At least, _this_ wasn’t a fail (unlike, possibly, the panties). “A _green_ arrow candle.”

Oliver’s smile widened even further, but when he met Felicity’s eyes it wavered a bit.  Not in a bad way.  It was funny, at times, it felt like they could just get lost in each other’s eyes.  It sounded like a Hallmark card, or a Lifetime movie, but it was true.

Clearing her throat, Felicity pressed, “Aren’t you going to make a wish?  Your arrow isn’t going to stay pointy if you wait much longer.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up at her unintentional innuendo, but Felicity refused to take it back. 

“Oh...I’m not worried about _that_ ,” he murmured, his tone teasing, but oh-so-affectionate. “But if you insist.”  Holding her eyes, Oliver leaned forward just enough to blow out the candle in one breath.

It was an absurd thing to feel so intimate, but it did. 

“What did you wish for?” Felicity asked, her throat dry.  Maybe she needed some more champagne?

The side of Oliver’s lip quirked up.  “I can’t tell you that.  It won’t come true.”

And just like that, the mood turned playful.  Thank _goodness_.

Felicity tipped her head back and batted her eyelashes at Oliver.  It didn’t even feel silly.  “Surely, it’s something that I can _make_ come true.” 

Pulling out the candle, Felicity popped the frosting covered end in her mouth and watched Oliver _watch her_ lick and suck it clean, his eyes becoming increasingly ravenous.  Good.

“I’m not taking any chances…hey, you going to share with the birthday boy?” Oliver asked in a raspy almost whine.

Grinning and feeling _infinitely_ more confident than she had fifteen minutes earlier, Felicity tossed the candle aside and ran a finger through the fluffy pile of frosting and presented the sweet dollop to Oliver for a taste.

Oliver grabbed her hand and held it still.  Then he held her gaze as his tongue snuck out for the tiniest taste.  Then licking his lips, they spread in a slow grin.  “Cream cheese frosting.”  His eyes lit up.  “The tang balances out the sweet.”  He repeated.  It was something he had told her during their summer away.  Oliver didn’t much care for purely sweet sweets since his time on the island.  “You remembered.”

As if Felicity would forget something like that.  “Was there any doubt?”

Oliver shook his head, slowly, somehow managing to hold eye-contact the entire time.  “No.”

“The cupcakes are key-lime,” Felicity added, trying to hold back her grin.

A different sort of delight lit Oliver’s eyes.  “My favorite.”

Chuckling, Felicity teased, “Still say that’s just because it’s green—”

She broke off with a moan as Oliver dove down and enveloped her entire finger with his mouth, licking it clean with soft swirling motions of his tongue, before sucking the finger deep into his mouth.

And, this time, Felicity’s eyes _did_ roll back into her head and she rubbed her thighs together, hoping her new panties didn’t look even more ridiculous soaked through.

Oliver pulled off of Felicity’s finger with a pop.  “More.”

Holy crap.

Felicity held the cupcake up to his lips, glad she had decided to order them without cupcake liners, and watched as Oliver opened his mouth and engulfed half of the cupcake in one bite, his eyes never leaving hers.

Holy _fraking_ crap.

Oliver licked his lips clean.  Slowly.  Because he was _trying_ to kill her.  “ _Delicious_.”

“Mmmhmm,” was all Felicity could manage in way of a response and she thought that even that came out as a squeak.

But it earned her another one of Oliver’s lovely, crinkly eyed smiles.  “Want some?”

Felicity might have nodded.  Or not.  She wasn’t sure.  Either way, Oliver cupped her hand and brought what remained of the cupcake to her mouth.  

She took a much more delicate bite, because, it might not be fair, but Felicity really didn’t think it would be nearly as sexy if _she_ ate half a cupcake in one bite.

“Good?”

It was like her brain forgot to recognize the taste until Oliver asked the question and then a burst of flavor flooded her tongue.  Felicity nodded, because it was actually _delicious_.  “This is _so_ our bakery of choice from now on.”

Chuckling (it was unfair how deep and sexy that sounded), Oliver popped the rest of the cupcake in his mouth before carefully cleaning any remaining frosting and crumbs from her fingers with his tongue.

Felicity almost forgot to swallow.

Then, before she knew it, Oliver’s mouth was back on hers and their tongues were tangled and they were sharing flavors.  Cream cheese and sugar and lime with a hint of champagne and a whole lot of Oliver.

Felicity needed to patent this.  Nothing in the world tasted better.

When Oliver tried to pull away, Felicity used her now clean (thank you, Oliver) hands to grab his tie and reel him back in.  He gave a growl that _might_ have been a protest, but she sucked his tongue into her throat and he seemed to like that just fine.

As wonderful as his tie worked as a tether, it really had to go.   Actually, _all_ of Oliver’s clothes had to go.  Right the _frak_ now.

Felicity worked the knot free as quickly as possible.  There was no telling how long her focus/coordination was going to last what with how frantic the kiss was getting.  Pretty soon she was just going to say frak it and go for the buttons of his slacks. 

Then Felicity had this image of Oliver fucking her, tie still on and flapping as he thrust…

Wow.  Okay.  Next time.

By some miracle, Felicity was able to get the tie free.  Still, she used the ends to keep Oliver as close as possible.  His hands fell on the belt tie of her robe and…

_Right_.

Felicity had almost forgotten.

“Wait,” Felicity gasped, trying to pry herself free, giving a breathless laugh when Oliver fought her.  “Wait.  You distracted me.”

“What? Why?” Oliver sounded so cute and confused, but she really needed to stay focused.  Felicity pulled out of his arms and he tried to follow, making her laugh. “From what?”

Holding out her hand to stop him, Felicity gasped, “No, stay there.  Just for a second.  Actually…”  She was having trouble deciding what to do next, but her body decided for her, stepping back into Oliver’s arms and pushing her hands under his jacket.  “This has got to go.”

Oliver gave her a wolfish grin, fiddling with her belt.  “So does _this_.”

Felicity slapped his hands away.  “No.”  She pushed on his coat until he had no choice but let go of her to let the jacket slide free.  “No distracting me.”

“Distracting you from _what_?”  But Oliver was looking at her like she was the best mystery he’d ever had the pleasure of trying to solve and…Felicity was really glad he was in a playful mood. That would help.

Felicity’s palms were sweaty again as she stepped out of reach.  _Damn_ panties.

Oliver shrugged off his jacket and looked around for somewhere to toss it, but since every available surface was covered in cupcakes and candles…he tossed it across the room, onto the floor, and it was, strangely, an incredible turn on given that he was usually so fastidious about those sorts of things and…

Okay, show time.  No more tangents.

Eek.

Oliver was looking at her like a panther eyeing his pray and he wasn’t going to wait much longer.  Felicity had better get a move on.

_Any_ time now…

“ _Fe-li-ci-t_ y…” And she’d swear that Oliver purred it.

“So…uh…” Felicity fiddled with her own belt and swallowed.  “So, when I decided not to go with the whole dressed in frosting thing, I had trouble _completely_ giving up the cupcake theme.”

Oliver’s heavy lidded, lust-filled eyes look softened in amusement, though he pressed his lips together in a (poor) attempt to hide it.  “So under that robe…?”  His voice deepened with each word he spoke.

Gulp. 

“It’s called a cupcake baby-doll nighty,” Felicity finally blurted out in a rush. 

His answering grin was instantaneous.  “Are you going to show me?  Because I would be _happy_ to help…” Oliver’s tone actually implied that he would happily tare his favorite robe to shreds.

Felicity sighed.  Why couldn’t she have gone with _regular_ lingerie?  It would be just awful if Oliver was disappointed.  “Promise not to laugh.”

Oliver just pressed his lips more tightly together, clearly trying to avoid doing just that.

“Promise!” Felicity demanded, pointy finger and all.

“Cross my heart.” Grinning, Oliver demonstrated.

And it was, strangely _un_ -reassuring, but…taking a deep breath, Felicity tried to channel _anything_ sexy buried deep inside her and shrugged off her robe in her best impression of a seductress.

It must have worked, because Oliver’s breath caught and his eyes darkened.  “Fuck, Felicity.  You were worried about _that_?” 

Well, the front wasn’t bad.  Actually…judging from the look in Oliver’s eyes, the front must be pretty hot. 

It was a green silk and chiffon baby-doll negligee that tied closed at the breasts with a bow.  Extra frothy ruffles at the bra and edge were meant to evoke the idea of frosting.  It was, maybe, a little more _girly_ than Felicity would generally go with, but she was generally happy with it.  _Especially_ , given the look on Oliver’s face.  But…

“Well…” Sigh.  It was probably best to get it over with.

Felicity turned around and lifted the edge of the nighty up so Oliver could get the full affect.  And…

Oliver let out a burst of laughter.

“ _Hey_!” Felicity dropped the fabric, spinning on him.  “You _promised_ not to laugh!”

But it was hard to feel humiliated when Oliver was grinning at her, looking nothing short of delighted, his sleeved rolled up all scrumptious like…when had he done _that_?

“Sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I just…” Oliver reached out and spun Felicity back around. “It was just unexpected.”

Then Oliver fell to his knees, too quickly for her to react or try to stop him and…then he pulled up her nighty and, dear lord, he was inspecting those stupid panties and…Felicity couldn’t decide if she should be allowing this or not.  

The panties in question had just enough matching green satin to cup the base of her ass before layers a white ruffled ‘frosting’ took over.  Felicity was awfully afraid that they resembled something a baby might wear.   And, what was worse, they were topped by a red fabric cherry, sitting cheerily right at the top of the crack of her ass.   _What_ had she been thinking?

“I should have gone with something delicate and sheer,” Felicity lamented.  She had seen something perfect at the lingerie store, something that wasn’t a combination of a Halloween costume and a layette.

“ _No_ …” 

Clearly, Oliver was just trying to reassure her. 

“They’re silly.”  Which was a huge understatement.

Oliver chuckled, but the husky tone gave her pause.  “They’re… _fantastic_.”

“Ha!  As a joke.” Felicity couldn't believe she had actually gone through with this.  “What was I _thinking_?  This isn’t sexy!”

“They are _sooo_ sexy,” Oliver protested, laughter still heavy in is voice.  “And so perfectly, _adorably_ Felicity Smoak…” His hands cupped her hips and just that light touch on her skin after so long was enough for the tension to wash away in a rush of arousal.  “Absolutely _perfect_.”

It was so tempting to believe him.  Felicity eyed Oliver over her shoulder.  “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Oliver looked up and met her eyes.  His smile spread, slow and sensual, but still so happy that it took Felicity's breath away.  He shook his head.  “Not even a little.”

His hands fell to her knees, skimming up the side of Felicity’s legs until he cupped her bottom, his thumbs gently resting against the crease of her ass, right below that absurd row of white ruffles that topped her green cupcake of a bottom.  Oliver’s eyes were glued to that bottom, though, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the cherry on top.

Then Oliver leaned back and Felicity watched him swallow from over her shoulder.  “So, this is my _real_ birthday cake?”

Felicity didn’t know that there was a straight woman on this planet who could say ‘no’ to Oliver when he used that tone.  “Sure.  Yeah.  Let’s go with that.”  She sounded as breathless as she felt.

Oliver nosed through the ruffles, until his lips landed on the small of her back and he pressed them there, leaving a long lingering kiss.  And, okay, Felicity might faint.  Whose birthday was it, anyway?

Then, so quickly that Felicity didn’t have a chance to guess his intention until it was too late, Oliver’s hands landed back on her hips and he spun her, _again_ , so she was facing him.  Being manhandled shouldn’t be a turn on, but….it _very_ much was.  And the bastard knew it.

Grinning up at her smugly…okay, maybe, not _smugly_.  Maybe, it was actually _lovingly_ , but it was also _confidently_.  And, maybe, having Oliver Queen kneeling at her feet, looking up at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened, would make Felicity forgive him anything.  Hell, it would make her _forget_ everything.  Everything but him.  But _this_.

“So…” Oliver gave her a huge, playful grin, pulling her close so she could feel something very distinctive poking her knee through the layers of menswear.  “You’re both my present _and_ my cake?”

The last of Felicity’s nerves evaporated in the sheer delight that was Oliver’s enthusiasm and she ran her hands through his short hair.  “Would that make you happy?”

Oliver's smile became almost boyish and Felicity got a very good idea of why girls had flocked to him when he was young and carefree.  “Oh, yes.”

Finally, Felicity laughed.  “Well, it’s _your_ birthday.”

His eyes flashed and before she knew it, Oliver had thrown her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and was standing.

“Oliver!” and, _yes_ , it was a squeal.  Felicity wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it.

Tossing her onto the center of the bed, Felicity was vaguely aware of Oliver kicking off his shoes and crawling up the bed like that panther she had compared him to earlier.  It made her core clench and her breath hitch.  _God_ , it had been so long.  Too long.  This was really happening and…it was going to be _fraking_ incredible.

Felicity reached for him, but Oliver caught her hands.  Lacing them together and holding them over her head, he leaned over her until he was only a breath away.  “You know what that means, right?”

It took Felicity a full minute to realize that Oliver was waiting for a response.  But, seriously, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded.  Her brain was short circuiting and her voice was _not_ responding.  She couldn't quite remember what she was even supposed to be responding _to_.  Finally, she managed to shake her head, in hopes that that would be enough.

“It means,” Oliver leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her cleavage (which wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for the wonder that was this nighty) “that I get to both _unwrap_ you…and…”  He whispered directly into her ear, “I get to eat...you… _up_.”

_Frak_.

Dead.  She was dead.  He had succeeded in killing her.

Oliver’s words rumbled through her and Felicity moaned as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth.  A shot of pure arousal zapped straight to her clit and…okay, maybe, this was a good idea after all.  Yay, for skipping _all_ the steps and going straight to the crazy birthday sexcapades. 

Then Oliver preceded to demonstrate _his_ plan, the one to _eat her up,_ by licking and sucking and nibbling behind Felicity’s ear, then down her neck…making her arch closer. 

Maybe, this was the best idea Felicity had _ever_ _had._

Loosening his grip on her fingers, Oliver dragged his fingertips over her palms and down the length of her arms, leaving trails of sensation in their wake.  All the while, his mouth voraciously attacked Felicity’s neck and chin, not lingering in one place long enough to leave a mark, but still making her body hum.

Oliver had been right.  Who the _hell_ needed alcohol?   It was so much better with nothing to dull the senses.

His hands made their way to Felicity’s shoulders and she reached for him, wanting to touch him the way he was touching her, to make Oliver feel the same sensations, the same pleasure, but…

Quicker than Felicity could blink, Oliver had her hands pinned above her head again.  “Nuh uh.  _My_ birthday present.”

Felicity just had to laugh, breathless as it was.  “And _your_ birthday present doesn’t get to touch?”

“Nope.”  Oliver was all seriousness, between long laving kisses along her cheek and neck.  “Not until I’m done with you.”

“That—”

Felicity broke off, not even sure where she was going with that thought, when Oliver swiped his fingers through one of the many cupcakes on the nightstand and brought frosting covered digits to her lips.  He rubbed his fingers along her lips reverently, painting them with sugar and cream.  And it was so _lovingly_ that it brought tears to her eyes.

Then Oliver followed his fingers with his tongue, tracing her lips, but never once dipping inside.  Felicity felt his wet fingertips trail along her throat, down to her collar bone…his lips followed.

Felicity arched into him, but left her hands stayed where he had placed them, over her head.  Who was she to deny Oliver on the first birthday he had celebrated in a decade?

But it didn’t stop Felicity from teasing, “I don’t know if this is fair.  What if _I_ want some frosting?”

Glancing up at her, Oliver gave Felicity another wolfish grin.  Then he took another swipe of frosting with his middle and index fingers and held them to her lips.

And _that_ sure as hell wasn’t an opportunity to be squandered.  Making sure to hold eye contact, Felicity delicately stuck her tongue out to lick Oliver’s fingers, swirling it around to catch the sweet, tangy taste.  But, mostly, she was watching his breathing, the way it caught and sped up, the way his eyelids got heavier.

When Oliver started to pull his fingers back, Felicity lurched up and captured them in her mouth, sucking as hard and as deep as she could, earning not just a groan but a growl.  Swirling her tongue—

“Enough of that,” Oliver rasped, dragging his fingers from her mouth.  His breathing was heavy and, before Felicity could protest the loss of her treat, he had replaced his fingers with his mouth, slanting his lips over hers and plunging his tongue deep, making her moan and clutch at the bedsheets. 

Oliver kissed her _ravenously_ , obliterating all thought from Felicity’s mind.  She arched into him, frustrated that he was keeping his body held away from her and she couldn’t get the contact she craved.

Felicity managed to get one leg around Oliver’s hip, but that victory was short lived since all she got for her efforts was an end to the kiss.  She moaned in protest.

“For a present, you’re awfully willful,” Oliver teased, stroking the leg around his waist.  Felicity noticed that he didn’t remove it, though.

Smiling (a rather delirious smile, she was certain), Felicity teased right back, “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Oliver tipped his chin as if to acknowledge her point, his soft smile not wavering as he reached out to decapitate another cupcake and paint Felicity’s cleavage with the green frosting.

“You, know if you get frosting on that fabric—”

“I know an excellent dry cleaner.”  Oliver flashed her a bright smile before diving down and, _damn_ , if Felicity didn’t find the dual sensation of his smooth lips and tongue and the rough beard the _most_ erotic thing.

Her eyes fell closed without permission and Felicity arched her neck back, pushing her chest toward him as Oliver took his sweet time (pun most _definitely_ intended), tending to every inch of exposed skin and managing to do it in such a way that she felt _adored_.

“You know…” Felicity swallowed.  Her tongue felt thick.   She felt drunk.  “Since it’s your birthday, shouldn’t _I_ be worshipping _you_?”  She’d had plans after all. 

Oliver’s rumble of laughter caused a new series of delicious sensations to cascade over her skin.  “Since it’s _my_ birthday, I think _I_ get to decide, don’t you?  Besides, I think you are infinitely more worship… _able_.”

“Oh, I have to disagree with you on that last one…” But then Felicity trailed off as she peeked open her eyes to see the ribbon that held her bodice together between Oliver’s teeth.  She was oh so very glad she had looked.  It was quite the gorgeous sight. 

Once he caught Felicity’s gaze, Oliver pulled…

And, God, if Oliver wasn’t the _sexiest_ thing on the planet.  Even fully clothed.

Though that dress shirt…unbuttoned at the collar, rolled up to the elbow…Oliver was seriously going to give her a heart attack.

His eyes were challenging as Oliver nudged the sides of Felicity’s nighty apart with his nose.

“Fine,” Felicity gasped out, “but we are revisiting this later.”  No _way_ was she giving up the opportunity to do her own worshiping.

Oliver chuckled again, pressing another long, lingering kiss to the top swell of her breast, before finally… _finally_ brushing aside the flimsy fabric and fully baring her right breast to his gaze.

Then all signs of amusement ceased.  Oliver stared down at her with…such reverence, such _longing_ …it took Felicity’s breath away.

Tears pricking her eyes, Felicity reached out and cupped Oliver’s cheek.

When Oliver finally looked up, a playful smile curved his lips.  “You really are terrible at following directions.”

Felicity grinned back.  “I guess so.”

Oliver turned his head and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand.  Then to the curve of her breast.  And, finally, to the tip.  Softly.  _Worshipfully_. 

Then he gathered a dollop of frosting and spread it around her areola.

All of Oliver’s considerable focus was on that one nipple as he ran his forefinger around and around, dispersing the frosting as arousal spread though Felicity’s veins, her breathing becoming labored as they both watched, entranced, the changes her body went through as the heat washed over her.  Her nipple tightened and puckered, the entire shape of her breast shifting, rounding as the tip presented itself for his attention. 

Finally, Oliver’s tongue followed his lips, delicately lapping up the sweetness of the frosting, first on the outer areola, then swirling around the tip, making Felicity moan. 

Oliver didn’t lift his head until the frosting was gone, but even then, he didn’t go far.  His breath teased her as Felicity waited.  He gathered more frosting, placing it—

With a growl, Oliver fell on her like a starving person, sucking Felicity’s nipple into his mouth…then her entire breast, with a sudden voracity…

Felicity’s body bowed off the bed with an equal swiftness and she screamed.  The shot of pleasure triggered went straight from her nipple to her clit and it was _so_ intense…and it just kept coming…and _coming_ …Oliver didn’t let up.  Not for a second.  He kept sucking, his tongue pressing the tip to the roof of his mouth, his eyes closed with extreme concentration. 

Oliver’s other hand roughly pushed back the rest of her lingerie.  With none of the care he had showed the first breast, he fell on the other, kneading, his thumb flicking, desperate, and…

Felicity couldn’t take it anymore, she…her back was arched and she was moaning almost continuously.  She was pretty sure that she was going to come from this alone…which was _insane_.  Unheard of.  Ridiculous…

Writhing in a way she had absolutely no control over, Felicity’s hips bucked, her leg pulling at Oliver’s thigh, trying to maneuver it closer to where she needed it most. 

But, then, incredibly, Oliver shifted his leg, so his thigh was pressed directly against Felicity’s core and she _screamed_.

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, _Oliver_ ….”

Wrapping both if her thighs around one of his, Felicity rode him mindlessly, seeking that perfect friction and finding it.  She could feel Oliver’s rock-hard cock through the layers of fabric pressed against her belly and she was certain that any minute he would stop her.  She couldn’t imagine that he would let her come like this. 

Felicity wasn’t sure that she _wanted_ to come like this…from Oliver’s mouth on her breast as she rubbed herself off on his thigh. His hard… _powerful_ …clad in very expensive menswear...thigh. 

But then, Oliver sucked her breast even deeper into his mouth and Felicity pulled at his hair…which of course, did nothing but encourage him…and…

Yes, yes, _yes_ …Felicity wanted to come like this!  _Just_ like this!  Right the _frak_ now!

Oliver’s hand moved to her ass, encouraging Felicity’s movements.  Then his thigh found the _exact_ right spot and—

“Oliv…Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”  Felicity _screamed_.  Loud enough to make her throat raw, _screamed_.  It was a damn good thing that they had the entire top floor to themselves. 

Felicity floated back down slowly, only recognizing after she’d rejoined her body that Oliver had pulled away.  Not completely, his face was pressed into her belly, but he’d pushed her legs away and he held his hips a good distance away from her and the bed.   His eyes were closed, his breathing harsh.

It was a look Felicity remembered well.  This was Oliver trying, _desperately_ , to regain control.

“You don’t have to,” Felicity murmured softly, carding her fingers through his sweat-dampened locks.

Oliver’s eyes snapped to Felicity’s and she saw they were unfocused and blown almost black. 

“You don’t have to hold back.  You don’t have to drag out the foreplay,” Felicity told him, smiling, feeling giddy and high and deliriously happy.  “That was plenty.  All the foreplay that was needed.  More than.  You can just…you can fuck me now.  That would be—”

With a not so soft growl Oliver flipped her.  It took Felicity off-guard and knocked the breath from her and, maybe, even made her arousal spike again.  Then, suddenly, her hips were in the air as he maneuvered her into the position he wanted her in.

As soon as she realized what Oliver wanted, Felicity gladly came up onto her knees.  She would have chosen face to face for their first time… _back_ together, but this was good.  More than good. 

It was Oliver’s birthday.  If he just wanted to push aside Felicity’s ridiculous panties and have at her like this, she was a-okay with that.  She just wished he’d get the frak on with it!

“Oliver… _please_ …”

Pushing up her baby-doll nighty, Oliver exposed her back and pressed a kiss to the center of her spine.  Felicity felt, more than saw, him shake his head against her skin as he murmured, “Not done yet.”

Oliver’s voice sounded pretty _done,_ though.  It sounded wrecked, actually.

Felicity groaned.  She was more than ready to move on to the main event.  But as she said, Oliver’s birthday.   She grabbed a satin covered pillow and balled it up beneath her head to lean against as she looked over her shoulder at him.

Oliver was carefully arranging the chiffon high on her back and positioning her legs, folded under her.

Felicity would shake her head if she had the energy, but she was still catching her breath from that first orgasm.  “Oliver, honey, you know we have all night?  We don’t have to go in order.  You can fuck me _now_.”

Oliver’s entire body seemed to jerk at her words.  “ _Shush_ , you.  Your mouth is going to kill me.”

That sounded like encouragement to Felicity, but before she could take Oliver up on his challenge, he swooped down and captured her lips again.  Apparently, he had reminded himself of exactly how much he appreciated her mouth’s _other_ talents.

Felicity had every intention of reminding Oliver of the _full_ range of those talents once it was her turn.  And she _would_ have a turn.  Oh yes, she would.

Oliver dove straight in for a deep, passionate kiss.  One that left Felicity shaken and breathless (and very aware of _his_ talented mouth) and…so, _so_ ready for where ever he planned to take her.

“Now hush,” he commanded, his voice so low and sexy…had Felicity mentioned how fricken gorgeous Oliver looked in the candlelight?

Gently, Oliver pushed her shoulders down.  She relaxed her upper body against the bed as he readjusted the nighty high on her back.  Felicity had no idea why he didn’t just take it off, but then she was distracted by frosting being spread down the length of her spine. 

Oliver followed the path with his lips and tongue and Felicity decided that she couldn’t care less _what_ she was wearing.

His hands trailed behind, his palms pressing into the muscles of her back (which, admittedly, weren’t nearly as impressive as Oliver’s).  His thumbs found the ridges on either side of her spine.  It was made Felicity simultaneously relaxed and excited.  How was that even possible?

When Oliver reached the edge of her panties, Felicity couldn’t resist saying, “Feel free to rip them off with your teeth.”

Oliver leveled her with a heated stare, his lip quirking up on the side.  “Not a chance.” 

Ah, well, worth a shot.

But, then, his teeth did catch that ridiculous cherry and pulled, though (unfortunately) he did it gently enough that nothing ripped.  Oliver just carefully peeled the fabric away until his thumbs found Felicity’s hips and took over dragging the fabric free.

There was no _way_ that he couldn’t smell her.  Felicity was sopping wet at this point.  But Oliver didn’t pause to give her the attention she wanted as her core was exposed.  He just kept up the gentle pull, straightening her legs as he slowly removed her panties, his lips trailing behind, following the length of her leg until he got to her feet.

Tossing the silly panties aside (thank _God_ ), Oliver grasped her foot in both hands and pressed a kiss deep into the arch, before running his teeth along the tendons and making her moan.  Felicity glanced back and saw him draw a toe into his mouth and…okay, toe sucking shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it was.

“Since when do you have a foot fetish?”  Felicity gasped as Oliver moved on to toe #2, very glad that she had spent the afternoon in the salon prepping for this.

“Since you regained sensation in them.” 

Oliver didn’t even look up at her when he said it, just murmured the words against the arch of her foot, but it felt as if he had reached into her chest, grabbed Felicity’s heart, and squeezed.

Tears pricked Felicity’s eyes and she buried her head in the pillow, talking deep breathes as she struggled with her precarious control over her emotions.

She wondered how long the pillow would take to start smelling like Oliver again.  Felicity hoped not long.

By the time Oliver finished with her legs and feet, Felicity felt it was safe to look at him again.  He was gently pushing her legs apart, positioning her again.  Her muscles were lax and pliable after the best orgasm she had had since…well, the _last time_ she had been with Oliver.

Felicity hated thinking that way.  It felt disrespectful, since she had had plenty of sex since then.  Disrespectful to _both_ men to compare.  And Billy had been a good and generous lover.  He just wasn’t…Oliver.  Felicity hadn’t been in love with him.  That seemed to make all the difference.

Once Oliver, again, had her knees folded beneath her, this time spread wide, Felicity…she should feel exposed (she certainly _was_ exposed) but that was never something she felt with Oliver.  Well, not in a bad way anyhow.

“Holy fuck, Felicity.  Did you—?”

Felicity blushed (which just might have been silly given the position she was in).  Oliver must have just noticed the Brazilian wax she got this afternoon with her mani/pedi.  She’d only done it once before, but they had both enjoyed it so… _seemed_ like a good idea.

Glancing back to look at Oliver’s expression…okay, it was a _great_ idea.  “Happy Birthday?” Felicity murmured.

And Oliver made a sound like he was trying to laugh, but couldn’t quite make his vocal cords cooperate.  He, also, wasn’t able to take his eyes off Felicity’s ass and…well, other parts. 

Lightly, he trailed his fingers over her slit, catching her juices.  It felt divine against the smooth skin.  Felicity didn’t have long to contemplate it, though, before Oliver leaned in and licked a stripe along the entire length of her slit.  She couldn’t see it, but… _God,_ she _felt_ it and…Oliver’s tongue as he delicately explored the perfectly smooth folds, his hands cupping and kneading her ass, pulling the cheeks apart…

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing them into the pillow (Felicity couldn’t see enough to make it worth the struggle to keep them open) and…she just _felt_.

But when Oliver’s tongue breached her channel and started to thrust Felicity just about lost it.  It was too much. 

It wasn’t nearly enough.

“You know, that would feel a _lot_ better if it was your cock,” Felicity panted, knowing full well what she was doing.

“ _Fuck_ , Felicity!”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Felicity let herself be flipped back over (she wondered if the baby-doll lingerie invited him to treat her like a ragdoll.  Not that she minded).

Oliver pulled Felicity to the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide.  Thank Gaaaaaaahh……

Felicity didn’t have chance to even fully register… _anything_ , as Oliver’s mouth fell on her ravenously, making good on his promise to eat…her… _up_ …

Oh, dear God…it felt _so fraking_ fantastic.  His tongue and his lips…he was sucking her nether lips into his mouth and…

Writhing and moaning, Felicity chased the promised pleasure, but Oliver wouldn’t linger in any one spot long enough to get a good climb going.

Then Oliver pulled back and looked up at her, lips and beard glistening, face slack with passion, eyes wild…they met hers and held and Felicity wondered if he was going to torture her with more frosting or if he was finally going to give her what they both wanted…and get _inside_ her already. 

But, then, three fingers thrust up inside her and his lips closed over her clit and she couldn’t _breathe_.   Oliver’s eyes still held hers, except no way Felicity could keep hers open…

Her back bowed.  Again.  _Violently_.  And she screamed.  _Again_.  For the second time that night, Felicity screamed loud enough for them to hear her two buildings down as she skipped the climb all together as Oliver pushed…or more precisely _sucked_ …her right over the edge. 

Euphoria came crashing down in tsunami like waves and she couldn’t…she didn’t even… _gah_ ….

Felicity was still floating…the pleasure crested, but still _there_ …when Oliver stood.  And if she thought he looked wrecked _before_ …

Felicity knew this look.  Oliver was _done_. 

Done teasing.  Done waiting.  Done holding back.

Thank fraking _God_.

Oliver reached for his belt and Felicity lurched up, grabbing for the buttons of his dress shirt.  She needed it _off_.  She didn’t actually know how she managed to open it without ripping anything, but she was pretty damn motivated, so that was something. 

Felicity tried to push his shirt off his shoulders, but Oliver wouldn’t let go of her long enough to get it over his elbows and when she glanced down and saw his cock bare and soooo close to her core…

Okay… _fine_ …shirt could stay on.  That was just _fiiiine_ with her.  It framed Oliver’s chest beautifully anyway.

Oliver had only gotten his pants and his boxers around his hips before his hands wrapped gently around Felicity’s thighs, holding her open and…

Felicity looped a leg around and hooked her foot into his boxer briefs, dragging them down and out of the way.  She reached out to take his cock in her hand, but Oliver caught it, lacing their fingers and meeting her eyes.

“Inside me.  Now,” Felicity demanded as sweetly as she could manage. _“Please_.”

Oliver’s eyelids fluttered and his cock jumped.  “ _Fuck_ …”

But, thankfully, he didn’t make her wait any longer.

Oliver held Felicity’s hand and her gaze as he sank inside her for the first time in _far_ too long.

The fullness and the look of pleasure on Oliver’s face and the pure _perfection_ of the moment brought tears to Felicity’s eyes.

“Fuck.  _Christ_.  Felicity, I…”

Oliver fell forward onto his elbows, one hand still tangled with hers.  Felicity adjusted their grip so that their hands were next to her head, laced together, and he followed her seamlessly.

“God, _Felicity_ …” Oliver panted as he looked into her eyes and she knew that hers were just as watery and she hoped that he understood that it was only because this… _this_ was just _so_ important and _special_ and…

Felicity smiled for him.  Though, she knew her lips trembled.  “I missed you.  _So_ much.”  Her voice was rough and thick.

And Oliver’s face convulsed with emotion as he sucked in a sharp breath.  “I…Felicity…I…I just _love_ you.   So much… _so much_ …”

One of those tears slipped free and Felicity choked out, “Yeah.  Yeah…love you too.”

Then she surged up to capture his lips.   Oliver met her half-way in a slow and reverent kiss that was so sweet and so perfect and full of love that Felicity thought that, maybe, she could happily stay like this forever.  Oliver inside of her.  Wrapped together, looking into each other’s eyes.

If only they could freeze this moment.

But as much as Felicity knew that Oliver wanted to make this moment last as much as she did… _Little Oliver_ , he had been tortured quite enough. 

Oliver’s hips started to stutter and Felicity could tell that it was beyond his control, because it was far more uncoordinated than he ever was.

He let out a distressed little whimper and Felicity snuck her hand down to cup his ass… _God_ , she missed getting her hands on that beautiful thing.  She tipped up her hips and used her hand and pelvis to urge Oliver into a rhythm.

“Make love to me, baby.”

Oliver let out a long, low growl and nodded.  His forehead dropped to hers and his free hand found her hip as he took back over, moving in perfect, _deep_ little circles.  Felicity was pretty sure that this wasn’t what _Little Oliver_ had in mind, but _she_ was loving it _so_ very much.  There was no way she was going to protest.

Plus, Felicity wasn’t sure that her tongue could form actual words.  She hadn’t fully come down from orgasm number _two_ and every small movement of Oliver’s hips just ratcheted her back up, higher and higher.  She didn’t know how long she was going to be able to keep her eyes open, but the sight of Oliver’s long lashes fluttering with pleasure was too beautiful not to try.

Felicity wanted to memorize everything about this moment.  She had learned the hard way how precious these were.

But Oliver let out a deep groan, his eyes flickering open.  “Felicity… _Felicity_ , I can’t…I can’t…”

Felicity tried to tell him, tried to say it was okay, to urge him to let go, but her fine motor control was so gone.  Her nervous system was on overload.  She managed to squeeze his hand and reach clumsy fingers up to touch his cheek.

“ _Oliver_ …”

He whimpered and dragged his lips inelegantly over hers.  Pushing up onto extended arms, Oliver began to thrust in earnest, each movement growing progressively longer and harder.  His head hung forward, sweat beading on his forehead and chest, his shirt framing it all as it flapped and the… _God_ , how was he even…

Somehow, Oliver managed to hit the perfect angle _every_ single time, hitting that spot deep inside her, while still making his hip bone graze Felicity’s clit.  Every.  Damn.  Time.  The man was a god.  A _sex_ god.

Felicity couldn’t stand it any longer, her eyes fell shut and her head arched back and, _again_ , she screamed.  Long and low and…she just _screamed_.  Fireworks.  Behind her eyelids.  Under her skin.  Everywhere…

“ _Felicity_ …”

Oliver’s hips took off, losing the rhythm entirely as he started to thrust hard enough to make the bed shake.  It could have been a problem if they hadn’t been smart enough to bolt it to the floor long ago. 

And, _somehow_ , Oliver managed to push Felicity’s pleasure still _higher_.

His arm gave out and his open mouth fell to her chin and Oliver moaned in her ear.  “ _Felicity_ ….”

She crested with a shriek…

“Fuck!”  One more hard thrust, then his hips stuttered as Oliver pumped every last drop inside her.  God bless, the modern IUD.

It made Felicity smile.  Her hand dropped down to caress his ass, enjoying those last clenching spasms, those final uncoordinated strokes as she pressed open mouth kisses along Oliver’s face and chin and he took great gasping breathes, burrowing further and further into the space between her neck and shoulder.

When he finally caught his breath, Oliver lifted his head so they were nose to nose.  “Hey,” he breathed.

Felicity thought, maybe, she giggled, but wasn’t sure.  “Hey.”  She was definitely grinning.  Ear to ear.

Oliver’s grin echoed hers and he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before laying his cheek against hers and wrapping his arms around her, holding her to him tightly so that he could roll over onto his back, take her with him, and, _somehow_ , manage to not even slip a smidgen of an inch out of her.

Once Felicity was settled on his chest, Oliver threw out his arms in a gesture of complete exhaustion and melted into the bed.

It made Felicity laugh.  Pushing up so she could gaze down at him, she teased, “Tired?”

Oliver shook his head, his smile lazy.  “Relaxed.  In the _best_ possible way.” 

Felicity felt pretty fricken relaxed herself.  And pretty fricken… _best_.  Yes, she felt best. 

Looking around at the decorations and candles she had anxiously and lovingly prepared, and then down at Oliver’s happy, spend form, Felicity couldn’t believe how it had all turned out.  “I’d say that went pretty well.”

Oliver barked out a laugh.  “I’d say so.”

Somehow, Felicity managed to flush.  Though it made no sense, considering the position they were in.  “I meant the _birthday_ celebration.”

Oliver’s grin spread to swallow up his whole face.  “Best birthday ever.”  Then he crooked a finger at her.  “Come ‘mere.”

Felicity fell into him for a slow, deep, _incredibly_ satisfying kiss.  When she pulled back, they just smiled at each other.

“You know, I didn’t need all this,” Oliver whispered against her lips, his eyes all soft and adoring.  “The best gift I could ever get was a second chance for you to be my…girlfriend…”

Oliver trailed off with a frown and Felicity chuckled.  He seemed to be having trouble fully grasping that she had agreed to try again.  “You can call me your girlfriend again.  It’s allowed.”

That got Oliver to smile again (though not as wide).  He shook his head.  “It’s not that.  It’s just …’ _girlfriend’_ , it’s so totally inadequate to express how I feel about you.”

_God_ , the things he said. 

Now, Felicity’s eyes were burning, again, and…she didn’t even know what to say, but she tried, “Well…anything more would be jumping over way too many steps.”  Though…she, sort of, kind of…agreed with him.  Completely.

Oliver nodded in understanding, but there was a lingering sadness in his eyes that Felicity just couldn’t stand. 

“But…I gotta say, I’m feeling pretty confident that we’ll get there,” Felicity offered and watched Oliver’s eyes light up.  She couldn’t resist adding, “I’d go as far as saying it was inevitable.”

His smile turned to a beam and Oliver wrapped his arms more fully around her.  “Like I said: Best.  Birthday.  Ever.”

And, honestly, Felicity couldn’t agree more.

 

 


	2. Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so very much to laurabelle2930 for the beautiful title page!

When Oliver was a kid and someone told him to wish on his birthday candles, he…didn’t wish for anything.

Well, maybe, young Ollie had wished for his birthday to be over.

Wishes were dumb and they didn’t work.  Besides, Oliver had pretty much everything he wanted anyway.

And the parties…well, they were more about showing off to his parent’s friends than Oliver’s ’special’ day.  The worst part was that he was expected to perform…like a friggin monkey.  It was what was expected of a Queen.

Or so his parents often reminded him.

But Oliver was dutiful.  He did what was expected of him.  Until he hit puberty, anyway.  After that, Oliver only performed when he wanted something.  No wishing necessary, just straightforward negotiation.

He’d spent most of his subsequent birthdays drunk.  Or high.  So, there was a possibility that Oliver might have wished for…something.  There were huge holes in his memory for most of them so anything was possible. 

There was this one birthday (maybe his seventeenth?), he and Laurel snuck off.  She’d snatched a cupcake and candle on their way to his room. Oliver was pretty sure that his wish was to get into her pants.  He was equally sure that that wish came true.

Then Oliver stepped onto the Gambit and he never blown out a birthday candle again.

Until tonight.  Tonight, Oliver blew out the Green Arrow candle Felicity had so lovingly placed on a key lime cupcake.  A literal green arrow candle.

It wasn’t that Oliver never made wishes on Lian Yu.  Or in Hong Kong.  Or in Russia.  Being shipwrecked, having no control over his life, had, somehow, made him more superstitious.  And wishes, on stars or comets or coins…they were no longer something to be wasted.  Not if there was some miniscule chance they could come true. 

Oliver had wished for survival.  For his mother to never know the monster he’d become.  For his sister to get through whatever she was going through and be a better person than he had ever been.

But since he’d come home, Oliver always wished for the same thing:  The safety of the people he loved.

There were plenty of times when Oliver had wanted other things, but it always felt like bad luck to wish for anything else.

So, when Felicity held up that cupcake and asked him to make a wish, Oliver wished for the safety of the people he loved. 

So many people encompassed in that one sentence.  That one wish.  Felicity.  Thea.  John.  William…so many.  Oliver had given this an insane amount of thought. 

But this was one of those times when Oliver was tempted, like deep in his bones tempted, to make a different wish.  It was stupid really.  Maybe even stupider than believing in wishes, but…

What Oliver really wanted to wish for was that this was real.  That it was actually happening.  Because he was having a really hard time grasping that fact.  Tonight was…well, waaay too good to be true. 

Felicity was giving herself to Oliver as a gift.  Literally.  His gift.

She probably meant it be cute and sexy.  Fun.  But did Felicity have any idea how…poignant that was for Oliver?

This gift she was giving him.  Of herself.  Of a second chance.  At love and happiness.  A happiness Oliver could only ever have with her.  It was…

Everything.

And it was overwhelming.

Oliver was overwhelmed by it all.  This…this thing, Felicity had put together for his birthday.  Not the…well, seduction, that was well within Oliver’s realm of experience.  Sure, he was…surprised to say the least, what with it was coming so soon in their reconciliation…

Oh God, they were reconciling. 

They were reconciled.  Oliver had Felicity back.  The love of his life, who he had been so certain was lost to him forever, was in his arms.  And that alone was overwhelming.

But the balloons with the tiny green arrows inside and the white and green candles, hundreds of them, the hunter green sheets and…God, the cupcakes in his favorite flavor, something that, perhaps, only Felicity knew.  Key-lime with cream cheese frosting, tangy, but not too sweet.

Even those ridiculous, adorable, sexy-as-hell underwear…all of it…Oliver didn’t think that anyone had ever taken such care to find things that suited him, that he would like, to make him feel like this was really his day.  Not ever.

Not without him asking for it.  Or taking it.  Or throwing a tantrum.  Never had anyone taken the time and care to know Oliver so well as to give him the perfect experience.

It was overwhelming.  And Oliver really didn’t feel like he deserved it.  Actually, he was pretty certain that he didn’t deserve it.

And he was having a hard time accepting it.

Not Felicity.  Not having her back. 

That Oliver was accepting with open arms.  And he wasn’t letting go either.  He wasn’t stupid.  It was too…essential to his existence for him to question.

But, the rest…it was too much.

He was grateful, though.  So, so incredibly grateful.  And that gratitude, that, at least, was something Oliver had some clue how to express.  It was no hardship, either.  In fact, he couldn’t think of a way he would rather spend his birthday (or any day) than giving Felicity the most pleasure, the most times, that he possibly could. 

And it had been pretty damn spectacular.  The sex between them had always been amazing, but Oliver didn’t remember it being this good. He couldn’t remember anything being this good.

Last summer there had been alcohol and hesitancy, trust issues and a million unanswered questions.  Before that, there had been secrets.  Big and small.  

What it had never had was this much openness.  It wasn’t something that Oliver had experienced before, with Felicity, or in any relationship before her.   Oliver hadn’t realized it at the time, but…this openness, it made all the difference.

But in the post-coital glow, a voice in the back of his head started up.  Telling him that it wouldn’t last.  That something was going to go wrong.  He would do something wrong.  Because Oliver Queen didn’t deserve to be this happy.

This was the best birthday he had ever had.  Oliver had told Felicity that because it was true.  Completely.

When he turned ten, Oliver’s parents had a full carnival set up in the backyard and invited every family from Starling Prep.

This was far better.

Oliver just wished that he had the words to express what this meant to him.  Instead, he tried to express it with his lips, his tongue, his hands, even his eyes…

But when Felicity gazed up at him, even though she looked as happy and as free as Oliver had ever seen her, he knew…it wasn’t enough. 

Propping herself up on her folded hands as they rested in the center of Oliver’s chest, Felicity smiled, the kind of smile he had missed…so much these last long awful months and whispered, “The night’s not over, you know?”

Oh, he knew.  Oliver was far from done expressing his gratitude. 

Oliver nuzzled his nose to her temple, then pressed his lips to her cheek and murmured, “Mmhmm.” He’d just have to been extra gentle and make sure they paced themselves.

But, then, Felicity stretched up to whisper in his ear, “I have Santino’s in the fridge.”

The sexy tone with which she announced she had take-out made Oliver laugh out loud.  And, at the same time, he felt a sharp stab of feeling deep in his chest.  That was where they had had their first date.  The disastrous one that had been interrupted by explosives.  The owners had rebuilt in a different location, but the food was the same.

“Is that safe?” Oliver joked, because he was starting to get overwhelmed again by Felicity’s sheer thoughtfulness and he wasn’t sure how to cope.

“Of course.  I didn’t cook it,” Felicity whispered conspiratorially and her tone helped relax Oliver a little.   “And I checked for bombs.”

Oliver couldn’t not laugh at that one.  He hadn’t laughed as much this entire last year as he had tonight.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?”  His hands moved slowly, continuously over Felicity’s skin.  Now that he was allowed to touch again, Oliver didn’t think he could stop.

Smiling playfully, Felicity shrugged.  “Well, I invited you over for dinner.  I thought I needed to have more to offer than ice cream and coffee creamer.”

A strange, happy-giddy feeling expanded in Oliver’s chest as he brushed the hair from Felicity’s face.  “Don’t forget cupcakes and champagne.” HIs words couldn’t quite match lightness of hers, choked with emotion as they were.

But Felicity gasped, rather dramatically, continuing with the game she seemed to be playing.  “Did Mr. Health-Nut just suggest Cupcakes and Champagne for Dinner?”

“Well, it is my birthday.” And that particular reply flew out before Oliver had a moment to think it through, shocking him in his own ability to let things…just flow. 

Only ever with Felicity.  Oliver was never relaxed enough to be anything resembling funny with anyone else.

Felicity’s tongue peeked out and she pressed to her top lip as they curled in a delighted smile.  Oliver could tell just how much she was enjoying the give and take and he was so glad he was able to be this for her, even if it was a rarity.  “Well, you know I’m always down for dessert for dinner, but if you want to go downstairs—”

“I’m good here,” Oliver answered, perhaps too quickly.  But, really, the last thing he wanted to do was leave this room.  This bed.  But, maybe, he was being ridiculous.  “Unless you’re hungry?”

Felicity’s eyes lit up.  “Not for Santino’s.”  She batted her eyelashes playfully, her lower lip peeking out.  “And you did get sooo much more frosting than me.  It’s really not fair.”

Oliver’s breath caught at that not so subtle promise.  Guess Felicity wasn’t tired.  But then…

“Oh!”  Felicity popped up, sitting tall on Oliver’s abdomen as her tone changed from sultry to…not.  “I forgot.  How could I forget?  I have another present for you.”

Seriously?  “More?”  It was already far almost too much.

“Well, it’s not a present present.  It’s not a thing.  It’s more like a…treat.”

“A treat?”  Why did that make Oliver even more nervous?

“But not one you eat,” Felicity rushed to add, then she tipped her head to the side, her nose scrunching up.  “Well, actually….”

Oliver chuckled, the sheer Felicity-ness of it helping him ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him he didn’t deserve this.  That he needed to stop this, because he was tempting fate.

Felicity swung her leg over and climbed off of him, which was really not something Oliver would have preferred, but he managed to keep his mouth shut.  He really didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm, especially not with his foolish insecurities.

“Don’t pout.  I’ll be right back,” Felicity reprimanded, before pecking Oliver on the lips, because, apparently, it didn’t matter if he kept his mouth shut, since she could practically read his mind. 

“Or…you could just…stay?”  Oliver tried the puppy-dog eyes.  It was playing dirty, but hey…

Oliver could tell that she was starting to melt, which was good because he far preferred snuggling to being…lavished with treats.  It looked like she was fighting herself, but then she started to back up.  “I’ll just—”

Then her eyes flew over him and…Felicity burst out laughing, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Oliver came up on his elbows, one eyebrow up.  He wasn’t insulted, he was way too content to be insulted, but he had no clue what was so funny.

That was until Felicity gestured to his body, her eyes alight with delight.  “You, uh…”

It was then that Oliver realized he still had his pants around his ankles and his shirt hanging from his shoulders.  He lifted the other eyebrow in challenge.  He couldn’t find one thing to be embarrassed about.

“You have to admit, you look rather…ravished,” Felicity laughed and Oliver had to say, she was looking rather proud of herself.

“And whose fault is that?”

Honestly, Felicity was one to talk.  She stood there wearing nothing but an undone baby-doll negligee.  It fell loosely on her shoulders, framing her breasts, barely covering her nipples, leaving her naked down to her smooth pussy.  Fuck, she was gorgeous.

Oliver’s eyes tracked over Felicity’s body as his arousal climbed again.  If he wasn’t an old man of 32, who had just had the orgasm of the century minutes before, he would be hard enough to pound nails just by looking at her.

Felicity wasn’t unaffected, either.  Her breathing increased and her cheeks got even more rosy.  She bit her already kiss reddened lips and said, “Hey, if I was up to me, you would have been naked ten seconds after entering the room.”

Oliver threw her a look, a rather heated look, all while trying to be cool and push his pants off with his feet, but there was really no dignified way to remove them now.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity dropped to her knees.  And Oliver’s stomach dropped to his.

Okay, that wasn’t…it wasn’t what Oliver...

“Felicity!” Pushing himself to sit up fully, Oliver’s breath caught yet again.  Seeing Felicity on her knees, pulling off his slacks…it did something to him.  It felt so wrong and so right at the same time.  “Felicity, I can do that.”

Oliver tried to reach down to help, but Felicity swatted his hands away, pulling his pants and boxers free and starting on his socks.

Oliver was feeling overwhelmed again, flustered almost, which was insane, because he was a vigilante and a mayor and he never got flustered. 

Except when, it seemed, Oliver was faced with one fierce and tiny woman.  What was wrong with him?

Oliver shrugged off his shirt, because he wasn’t sure what to do next, and the idea of just sitting there and letting her do everything was way too much.  But, then, Felicity pressed a kiss to his knee and even that was too much.

Luckily, Felicity was done quickly and she practically bounced to her feet, negligee fluttering, and breasts…dear God, she was going to kill him.  “I’ll be right back,” she announced, dashing into the bathroom and leaving Oliver feeling a shell-shocked.

With nothing else to do, Oliver flopped back on the bed (naked) and stared up at the ceiling. 

Yup.  Same ceiling.  Oliver knew it pretty well considering how many nights he had spent staring at it. 

Before they got together, lonely and miserable, Oliver had spent many a night doing just this, planning out his next battle strategy or, maybe, wallowing in self-loathing.  After they got together, Oliver would lie here with Felicity curled up against his side, asleep, as he made completely different kinds of plans. 

To propose.  To heal Felicity’s legs.  To keep her safe.  To dig himself out of the hole he had created with William so they could eventually be a family.

Luckily, Oliver didn’t have time to fall into a good brood.  (Felicity would have been pretty pissed if he had).

“Tada!” 

Felicity emerged from the bathroom holding up a bottle of some sort and…eh, if that was a bottle of lubricant, then things were about to get real interesting.  Especially since it was, um, not a small bottle.  What kind of ‘treat’ was she talking about here?

Felicity bounced up onto the bed next to Oliver, settling on her knees, her grin huge.  “Cupcake Massage Oil," she announced.

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up.  He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved that it wasn’t lubricant.  Though, massage oil could function in much the same way…

Flicking open the bottle, Felicity held it out to Oliver.  “Smell.  It smells and tastes like cupcakes.”  She seemed very proud.

Oliver dutifully sniffed.  Mostly, it smelled like vanilla, but he nodded and smiled.  Because what difference did it make?  “If I get to pour that all over you for my second birthday cake, then I’m all in.”

“No!” Felicity huffed, rolling her eyes and pushing Oliver back onto the bed.  “I get to pour it all over you.”  Her eyes drifted over his body and she licked her lips which distracted him for a few moments (and made his spent cock twitch). “And give you a massage.”

A massage?  Felicity was going to give him a massage?

“Don’t give me that look,” Felicity protested, immediately, because…that mind-reading thing…she was just getting better and better at it.  “I watched like a 100 YouTube videos and got tips from Kim at the salon, how bad could I be?”

“It’s not that,” Oliver rushed to reassure, because the last thing he was questioning was Felicity’s competency.  At anything.  “I’m just really not a massage kind of guy.”

“Please,” Felicity scoffed.  “I bet the Queens had live-in masseuses.  You must have had dozens…hundreds of massages.  And more than your fair share of happy endings too.”  Felicity looked disgruntled at the idea, but then her eyes lit up and she leaned forward to whisper, “By the way, you’re totally get a happy ending tonight.”

Well, that certainly lightened Oliver’s mood.  He laughed, even as he shook his head.  “Actually, the only ’massages’ I got was by my personal trainer in High School when I played sports.  It was usually because of an injury and it was far from relaxing.”  Actually, he remembered calling them ‘torture sessions’.  Of course, that had been before he’d had intimate knowledge of actual torture.

But Felicity seemed happy with that news.  “Oh, good, then your expectations will be low.”

If Felicity kept making him laugh, Oliver might just forget how uncomfortable he was.  “I still think I would rather give you a massage.”  He’d watched exactly zero YouTube videos on the subject, but was pretty damn sure he could figure it out.

But Felicity was already shaking her head.  “Come on, how bad could it be?  I pour on some oil and rub it all over those lovely bulgy muscles…” She trailed off, her fingers waving as she got that distracted look on her face that Oliver loved.  Then she shook her head as if to clear it and looked back at his face.  “It will be fun.”

Ugh.  “I’m sure it will be—”

“Oliver…” Now Felicity was giving him that sweet entreating expression that was his kryptonite.  It was so much worse than his puppy-dog eyes.  “You just worshipped every inch of my body and it was wonderful.  Now let me worship you.”

Oliver tried not to flinch at Felicity’s word choice.  “But you deserve to be worshiped…”

He could tell by the look on Felicity’s face, pretty much immediately, that he had made a mistake.

“And you don’t deserve to be worshipped?” 

Yup, Oliver fucked up.  Gave away too much.  “I…”

“No, you know what, I don’t want to hear it,” Felicity interrupted and it was bordering on her loud voice, except without the bite.  Still, it was a tone that Oliver had the instinctive need to obey.  “Face down on the bed, mister.  You’re getting worshipped whether you like it or not.”

All right then.  That was…not something Oliver had any desire to argue with.  The last thing he wanted was tonight to end in a fight.  Especially over something so…silly.  Besides, as Felicity said, how bad could it be?

Oliver moved to do as he was told and Felicity reached out to slap his ass, the sound echoing in the room around them.  “Relax!”

As if it were that easy.  “Do you really think hitting me is going to help?” Oliver teased.  Though, God knew, it didn’t actually hurt.

“You’re never this tense in the field.  I’m trying to put you in your element.”

Chuckling, Oliver snatched a pillow and balled it up under his head. It gave him something to dig his fingers into. “Criminals don’t usually slap me on my ass.”

“No taste,” Felicity lamented, shaking her head.

Oliver smothered his next laugh into the pillow.  Then there was warm oil being poured onto the middle of his back.  And, even though he wasn’t expecting it, his muscles couldn’t help but relax at the sensation.  

“Oh, I forgot…”

This time Oliver didn’t even open his eyes at the declaration, though he did tense up a little.  All of Felicity’s surprises had been pretty great so far, but he wasn’t sure if he could take much more…greatness.

Music clicked on and…well, Oliver wasn’t exactly sure he would consider that music.  “Uh…what’s…?”

“Relaxing nature sounds like they have at a real salon,” Felicity announced and Oliver wondered if it was normal for a massage therapist to sound so cheerful.  Except…

It sounded like the ocean, which was not exactly something Oliver found soothing.  Fuck.  This wasn’t going to work…

“It’s called Sounds of Bali,” Felicity announced just as the flutes and drums of Bali drifted in to mingle with the sounds of the ocean and the birds and the breeze. 

Oliver took a deep breath, immediately relaxing.  Thank God.  “Good choice.”

“I thought so,” Felicity hummed, pouring on even more oil.  “How’s the temperature?”

“Good.”  Perfect, actually.  “I wasn’t expecting it to be warm.”

Felicity gave a happy little hum.  “Why do you think that I had it in the bathroom?  The bottle was taking a hot bath.”  She spread the oil around Oliver’s upper back and shoulders and it felt kind of great.  Which, conversely, (but not unexpectedly) made Oliver tense up.

“Reeelax, Oliver,” Felicity sang. 

Then he felt Felicity swing her leg over his back so she was straddling him.  Oliver could feel her weight settle against him and, more importantly, her soft bottom and slick core on his skin and that was distracting enough to quiet his negative thoughts.  At least for the moment.

Felicity’s nails scraped against the nape of his neck, traveling up to dig gently into Oliver’s scalp as she commanded again, “Relax!”

This time, Oliver’s body actually listened.  It remembered the feel of Felicity’s fingers massaging his scalp well.  It was something that never failed to make the tension melt away. 

Oliver closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow.  Unfortunately, the sheets were too new to smell like Felicity, but with her weight on his back and her fingers rubbing his temples, the candlelight flickering behind his closed eyes and the music...

He could almost pretend that they were back in Bali, back to a time when there was nothing to worry about but…

Nothing.

There had been literally nothing to worry about.

They had been happy.  At peace.

And lying there now, with Felicity humming along to the music in, (Oliver was pretty sure that was not something professional masseuses did, but he refused to tease her about it for fear she’d stop), he actually let himself consider that they may be able to find that place again.

No.  They’d never be exactly like that.  Their lives were too complicated.  They had too many responsibilities.  They’d never be able to walk away like that again.  But…

Oliver would take her back to Bali for their honeymoon.  He swore to God, he would.  And it would be even better, because this thing they were building now was better.  Stronger.  They were going to build a foundation so deep and so solid that nothing would ever be able to destroy it again.  Not even himself.

Felicity moved on to Oliver’s shoulders, putting her full weight into the massage.  She was taking this incredibly seriously.  It wasn’t just an excuse to rub him all over and get right back to the sexy times. 

But, of course, Felicity never did anything half-way.  Using her palms, she pressed deep and hard, bearing down on Oliver’s muscles in long strokes and it, kind of, felt…amazing.  Which, of course, started the voice back up, reminding him he neither needed nor had time for such an indulgence.  But…

What harm could it possibly do?  Felicity wanted to do this.  It made her happy, if the sweet little noises she was making were any indication.  Oliver didn’t have any plans or responsibilities that he hadn’t already set aside to spend the evening with her.  So, if indulging her also made him feel good, what was the harm?  Why not just…enjoy it?

“Relax,” Felicity murmured, a third time (or maybe a fourth), this time adding a soft, “baby,” murmured directly into Oliver’s ear and the endearment triggered a rush of pleasure deep in his belly.  The warmth of her breath and the husky command by-passed his brain and his nervous system obeyed instinctively.

Oliver decided to go with it.  He’d learned enough techniques over the years to turn off his racing thoughts and go with his intuition.  For once, he was going to use it for something other than battle. 

Focusing all his senses on Felicity, Oliver let his muscles go lax.  Just like when he shot a bow and arrow, he let his senses take over.

“There we go,” Felicity murmured, leaning forward to kiss Oliver’s nape and dragging her hands down his back.  “I was really hoping I wouldn’t be the only one enjoying this.”

Oliver huffed out an amused sound, not even bothering to open his eyes.  “I’m pretty sure that I’m enjoying this a great deal more.”

“Than me?” Felicity chuckled, a soft rumble in his ear that made Oliver smile.  “Then I must be doing an awesome job, because I’m enjoying this immensely.”  Her lips dragged along his left shoulder blade.

The incredible thing was…Oliver believed her.  “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Why?  You know you are a beautiful man.  Don’t pretend you don’t.”

Oliver was too relaxed to shrug.  Even his voice felt thick and heavy.  “With my clothes on.”

Wow, he must really be relaxed if said that.  Not that it was something he hid.  Oliver’s vanity had died a slow death on Lian Yu.  Since then, his attractiveness had been a weapon, a mask.  The scars were the real him, something he kept very carefully hidden from the public.  He didn’t hate them, but they weren’t pretty.  They simply were.  A map of his sins and his contrition.

But Oliver’s words triggered a trill of musical laughter from Felicity and Oliver was rather proud to have caused it, no matter how he did it. 

“You look like a warrior,” Felicity argued.  “A highlander or gladiator of old.  Every scar tells a story.”  Her fingers traced them delicately.  “Each a mark of valor.”

Oliver let out a bark of laughter and he shook his head at the sheer wonder of her.  Of course, Felicity would see brands of honor where Oliver saw reminders of sins and failures.

Felicity leaned over him and gently bit the center of the Al Sah-him brand.  Actually, she could have bit him rather hard and he wouldn’t have been able to tell.  None of Oliver’s burn scars carried much sensation anymore.  The nerve endings were completely destroyed.

“I love your scars,” Felicity vowed and her words…he felt those.  All over.  “Every one.  Because…this gorgeous body wasn’t created out of vanity or in a gym.  It was formed out of necessity.  To help people.  To save them.”

“It wasn’t always that way,” Oliver murmured, feeling the need to remind her that he wasn’t the knight-in-shining armor Felicity sometimes painted him as.

“It’s been that way for the last five years and that’s all I care about.”

Oliver grunted.  He didn’t quite trust his voice.  He wasn’t even sure if Felicity’s words were true or not.  It certainly didn’t feel like he deserved something that perfect.

Felicity slid her hands up his back and over his shoulders, down to curl over his upper arms, before laying her whole body on top of Oliver’s. 

Felicity’s warm, naked body, slid through the oil until it molded seamlessly to his, her chin notched over his shoulder and her fingertips grazed his cheekbone.  Oliver turned his face into the touch. 

“Oliver, the fact that you started all this as a shallow selfish man-child…”

And, wow, Felicity didn’t pull any punches.  It was true, but…wow. 

“…who struggled and slipped into darkness after traumas as horrible as anyone could imagine…that just makes who you are now all that more amazing.”

Yeah, right.  Oliver had to laugh.  Turning his head, he tried to catch a glimpse of her face.  “How do you figure that one?”

“It’s the journey that counts,” Felicity murmured and she looked so sure. 

How did she always look so sure?  Oliver felt like he was never sure of anything.  Well, except her. 

“It’s easy for a good man to stay good, but to start out the way you did and become…this…” And, amazingly, Felicity made this sound like a good thing.  A great thing, even.  “The person you’ve become is extraordinary.”

“Fe-li-ci-ty…” Oliver’s eyes fell closed again as her words washed over him.  He felt like he should argue with them, but he was too busy letting them seep into his skin.  He didn’t even want to think about them yet, to analyze anything.  He just wanted to feel them.

Oliver leaned over to capture her lips, but Felicity only allowed him a momentary taste before dragging her lips over his chin to his shoulder.  Then she was shimmying her body down his oil slickened back.  He could feel her breasts and nipples drag over his skin, her lips lingering to kiss a scar here and there.  He never resented the patches of lost sensation until now.

Her tongue traced his spine and Oliver’s breath became deep and even as he did his best to memorize every sensation, letting Felicity’s words and her touch sink into his battered soul. 

Felicity finally settled on his thighs, pressing her thumbs into the small of his back and Oliver groaned, it felt so good.  Her massage moved to focus on his lower back and ass and it was so damn sensual and relaxing that he let himself drift for a while, letting himself just be.

But after several long minutes passed, Oliver realized something and couldn’t resist teasing, “For someone who loves my scars you are focusing an awful lot of time on the one un-scared part of my anatomy.” 

Oliver would swear that Felicity had spent more than ten minutes on his ass alone.  Not that anyone was complaining.

He received a smack for his observation and it triggered a deep rumbling laugh that felt so natural…it had been a long time since Oliver felt like this. 

“It’s not my fault your ass is so damn distracting,” Felicity defended. 

But she slid further down his legs and Oliver almost regretted bringing it up and prompting her to move on.  But, then, Felicity added more oil to his ass and started to rub it down to his thighs, adding a biting kiss to said ass that made him groan and, maybe, even hump the bed a little.

Oliver managed to regain control pretty quickly, though, as Felicity moved her attention to his thighs and legs.

“Do you want me to continue on your legs or are you ready to flip—”

He didn’t have to be asked twice.  Oliver rolled, unseating Felicity and making her laugh.  He was very tempted to grab her and roll her under him, but…

Then Oliver realized that Felicity was wearing nothing but second-hand massage oil and a smile and it took him a minute to remember how to breathe.

“What happened to the negligee?” Oliver was finally able to croak out.

Felicity shrugged, trying to appear casual even though her pleased smile showed how very aware she was of how she was affecting him.  “I decided that the dry cleaners didn’t need oil on that too.”  She pushed on Oliver’s shoulder, pressing him back into the mattress.  “Now relax…” 

Was that the fourth time or the fifth?  But this time, Felicity’s lips were close enough for Oliver to stretch up and capture her lower lip between his teeth (gently, of course).

Felicity pulled herself free, though not before nipping at Oliver’s upper lip in retaliation. 

“Be good,” Felicity reprimanded, grabbing Oliver’s hands and placing his arms by his side so they lay by his hips.  “Stay.”

So…was this revenge for him not letting her move earlier?  Quid pro quo?  Either way, Oliver had to admit it was kind of a turn on.  His cock lay thick and heavy on his thigh.  Half-hard (had he mentioned that he was 32 and it had less than an hour since he had come hard enough to see stars?).  But, still, he felt himself lengthen as he dragged his eyes over Felicity’s golden skin.

God, she looked incredible in the candle-light.  The oil only intensified the glow of her skin.  And, when Felicity swung her leg over him and settled her even slicker core on his stomach, it was quite the view.

Oliver groaned.  “So, why can’t I touch?” Because now that he got a good look at her, his fingers were itching to feel her and he really didn’t think pay-back was a good enough reason.  “And don’t tell me about professional masseuses, because I’m pretty sure they aren’t naked in the salon.”

Felicity poured a generous amount of oil over the center of Oliver’s chest.  Incredibly, it was still warm.  “How about…because I can’t concentrate with you groping me?”

“What if it doesn’t feel like a grope?” Because really ‘grope’?  Oliver did not ‘grope’.

Felicity raised an eyebrow at him.  “Can you promise not to be distracting?”

“Uh…” What was the fun in that?

“Exactly.”  It seemed that Felicity was done discussing the issue.  Her focus shifted to Oliver’s chest as she began to spread oil.  

But Felicity stopped when she got to his newest burn scar, still red and ugly, newly healed, and she paused, biting her lip.  Oliver had wondered how she was going to feel about that particular scar, or rather the lack of the bratva tattoo.  He knew she had enjoyed it, aesthetically at least.

“Does it still hurt?” Felicity finally whispered.

Shaking his head, Oliver watched Felicity’s reactions carefully.  He really hoped that was her only problem with it.  “I can’t feel much of anything over the area anymore.”

“Mmm,” Felicity murmured mournfully, pressing a kiss to the edge of the scar tissue, between the puckered skin and his nipple, where he could still feel.   “Only your…mystical tattoo left.” 

Felicity ran her fingertips over the Chinese characters on his flank, making him shiver and his muscles ripple under her touch. 

“And who knows what it will take to get rid of that one?” Oliver drawled.  Not that he wanted it to go away.  It had been...useful.

Felicity didn’t have an answer for that.  Or even a comment.  She just moved her hands up to cup Oliver’s pecs and massage the muscles in a way that felt weird at first, but she must have researched well, because it then…it felt so fucking good.

It had to be the unusual state of relaxation that made Oliver say, “I’ve thought about getting another one.  A tattoo I choose.  It would be an interesting change of pace.”  It felt symbolic, to place something on his body entirely of his own volition.

A slow smile spread across Felicity’s face, her hands still working their magic.  “Really?  What were you thinking?

Oliver licked his lips.  Was he really telling Felicity this?  It had been something he’d been thinking about a lot recently, but it felt really intimate.  Maybe, even, too much so. 

“I was thinking…” Oliver spoke slowly and carefully, watching her every reaction.  “Of a sun or…maybe, the north star.”  He wasn’t sure if he wanted Felicity to catch the symbolism or not.

But from the way Felicity sucked in her breath, it was clear that she had.  As if his genius would miss it. 

Felicity straightened her back, her hands falling still as she looked directly into Oliver’s eyes.  “The light that lights your way?”

Well, he’d put it out there, Oliver couldn’t turn coward and back down now.  Holding Felicity’s gaze, he nodded.

She swallowed, her eyes burning into Oliver’s.  And, yeah, this…this eye-contact…it was beyond intimate.  It felt like Felicity was looking straight into his soul.

Oliver waited.  Waited to see how she was going to respond to him basically saying that he wanted to tattoo something that represented her on his skin.  They had only reconciled days ago (if he was being generous).  This was a big fucking deal and there was no way Felicity had missed that.

After a minute, Felicity went back to rubbing Oliver’s chest, breaking eye contact and chewing on her lip, leaving him to wonder if she was just processing or—

“I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo as well.”

Oliver’s eyes jerked up, but Felicity’s were still fixated on his chest, where the bratva tattoo used to be.  “You?  Aren’t you afraid of needles?”

Shrugging, Felicity glanced up briefly, a half-smile tugging at her lips.  “Working on Team Arrow has made it really hard to stay freaked out by needles.” Her smiled spread to the other side.  “Kangaroos on the other hand…”

“I swear I will always keep you safe from kangaroos.  They will never harm you while I am living,” Oliver swore, letting his voice take on a playful edge.  It seemed like a safe enough promise and he was rather grateful for the lightening of the mood.

“My hero.”  Felicity chuckled, pushing down with her palms again, deepening the massage.  “Besides, tattoos aren’t those long scary needles.  They’re tiny little things you can barely see.  Not that I plan on looking.”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile.  His brave girl.  “What were you thinking of getting?”  He was imagining something poignant, written in binary, or some technical marvel—

“An arrow, of course.”

He would swear that his heart actually stopped beating.  Oliver couldn’t form words.  Even if he did know what to say.  His brain had come to a full stop.

“I have a design saved to my tablet,” Felicity murmured, her eyes avoiding his for the first time all night.  “It’s an arrow surrounded by vines.  Beautiful, really.  Green, of cour—”

Oliver reached up and yanked Felicity’s head down to his.  He couldn’t stand it.  His tongue plunged into her mouth.  God, he wanted to devour her.  

Felicity moaned into his mouth, kissing him back, but…mostly, she just took it.  Allowed Oliver to claim her.

“When?” Oliver demanded once he’d finally found to strength to allow Felicity to breathe, though he did make her share her air with him, cupping her head and keeping their foreheads pressed together.  But she wasn’t trying to pull away.  Not at all.

“Off and on,” Felicity whispered and Oliver could feel a slight tremor go through her.  “The idea has been there for years.”

“Where?” Oliver was panting and, apparently, all he could manage was one syllable at a time.  He couldn’t quite express what…how much that made him feel.

She blew out a breath and, with that, the hesitation seemed to leave her.  Felicity got that sexy-as-fuck, mischievous smile and pulled away from Oliver’s grip to sit up again (since she was still straddling him). 

“I’ve been debating that for a long time actually.  I was thinking my hip…” Felicity traced a line over the bone.  “Or my thigh…”  She showed him a spot lower.

Oliver’s breath was getting faster by the moment and he was certain that Felicity was well aware of this fact.

“I like the idea of it being high enough for even my shortest skirts to hide it,” Felicity told him, her voice husky, but not seductive in an affected way.  It was almost shy, which was insane given the words coming out of her mouth. “But accessible, so that all you have to do is lift the skirt up and there it is.”

Oliver growled, lunging for her again.  Felicity was trying to kill him.  It was the only explanation.

Further evidence that this was her plan…Felicity slapping Oliver’s hands away.  “Nuh, uh.  I’m not done.  You keep distracting me.”

“Fe-li-ci-ty…”  This time it was a warning.  Oliver was done.  So done.  He needed her now and he wasn’t going to tolerate much more.

But she slid back, out of easy reach, settling low on his thighs.  “I haven’t gotten my taste.  You promised me I’d get a turn,” Felicity argued.

“No.  I didn’t.”  Oliver remembered promising no such thing.

Oliver must have been right because Felicity paused, tipping her head to the side and wrinkling her nose as she thought.  “Well, I’m taking it anyway.”

Then, before Oliver could even fathom what her intentions were, Felicity bent forward and swallowed his cock whole.

Oliver was so not prepared.  His back bowed in an involuntary buckle, jerking with enough force that he worried Felicity would get hurt, but she stayed with him, smiling around his cock.  She seemed to enjoy his reaction. 

Probably because Oliver shouted. 

And Oliver never shouted. 

Felicity was the screamer.  Oliver might grunt and growl.  He may even moan.  But he didn’t scream and he never shouted. 

Until now, it seemed.  And it appeared that made Felicity quite pleased with herself.

He hadn’t been fully hard when she started this, but that was quickly remedied as Felicity literally sucked the blood into his cock.  Two long pulls of those luscious red lips and Oliver was hard enough to pound nails.  Again.

Jesus.  Fuck.  That felt good.

Then Felicity’s mouth was gone and Oliver almost whined in protest.  Almost.  He thought.  That was his story and he was sticking to it.

But Felicity was shimmying back up his body and that felt pretty great too.  Especially now that Oliver was all woken up and hypersensitive to her every move. 

Oliver’s hands fell to her hips, but Felicity slapped them away.  “No hands.”

Grunting, Oliver indulged her and let his hands drop.  For now.  He really didn’t think he’d be able to hold out much longer.

It quickly became clear that Felicity was going for the cupcakes and frosting.  And was purposely torturing Oliver by climbing over him and rubbing as much of her body against his as possible while she did so.

Which was why Oliver felt zero guilt in capturing her nipple in his mouth.  Hey, Felicity said no hands.  And his hands…dutifully by his side.  Plus, her breast was right there, in his face.  Really, how much self-control did she think he had?

 “Ol-i-ver!  Not…fair!”

He tried to explain that it was very much fair, but it was likely that Felicity had trouble understanding him.  Oliver did have her nipple in his mouth at the time.  And he wasn’t giving up his prize until absolutely necessary, sucking and tonguing her until she yanked herself away with a wet pop.

Sitting tall on his abs, Felicity held a cupcake piled high with frosting, sporting a gorgeous flush and a breathless smile. 

Felicity only paused there for a moment though, then she was working her way downwards and, this time, it was very obvious that she was purposely dragging her dripping pussy over as much of him as she could, including Oliver’s, now, hard cock.  The tease.

Oliver didn’t even feel bad calling her that (in his head), given that Felicity held eye contact and smirked at him the entire time.  Yup, teasing was the name of the game and his cock was falling for it big time, jerking and begging for attention, bouncing back from her long slow slide down its length and, then, standing tall and pleading for more.

If it could, it would be whining and pouting right about then, but Oliver bit his lip to keep from doing just that.  Instead, he settled for promising with his eyes exactly what Felicity was going to get as a result of this little game. 

He’d swear that she understood what Oliver was trying to communicate, but Felicity didn’t seem discouraged in the least (and why should she be, when his plans were going to make them both very happy) and refused to be rushed. 

Felicity dragged her finger through the frosting and used it to paint careful patterns on his abs.  Payback, it seemed, for insisting on those three orgasms.

Thinking about those three orgasms made Oliver feel rather smug (no way was he questioning whether Felicity came ever again, even if his ears rang for days).  Folding his hands behind his head, he settled in to watch the show.  If this was his punishment, he could certainly take his licks…pun absolutely intended.

So, Oliver just smiled (and, maybe, growled a little.  Good-naturedly, of course) as Felicity took another large dollop of frosting and smeared it from his navel to his cock, before giving that her full attention. It seemed unfair that she could slather his dick with frosting while her pussy was a sugar free zone.  Then again, her natural taste was rather intoxicating on its own.

When Felicity was finally satisfied that she had used every last drop of frosting on Oliver’s cock, which was at this point standing tall, very eager to be used as a lollypop, she set the cupcake aside and slowly licked her hand clean…because she wanted to torture him.

Oliver could only smile and shake his head.  He thought back to how nervous Felicity had been when he had first arrived, babbling and insecure, but still so sexy in a very Felicity way. 

But this Felicity, all confidence and sass, she was a force of nature.  Oliver had missed her.  She would be the death of him one day and that was exactly how he wanted to go.

Instead of the shock and awe approach of before, Felicity’s plan now seemed to be to slowly drive Oliver out of his mind.

Deliberately…carefully…thoroughly…Felicity lapped up every smidgen of frosting, starting with tracing the ridges of his abs (being way too careful not to touch Oliver’s poor cock), savoring each drop and, if it tasted half as good it tasted on Felicity’s skin, he couldn’t blame her in the slightest.  He needed to find out where she got those cupcakes from.  They were never using another baker again.

It seemed like forever before Felicity was finished with his abs and moved on, licking the stripe down his path to heaven (stupid name.  There had to be a better one) and finally, finally got to Oliver’s neglected cock.

When she did, Oliver was very glad that his hands were as far from her as they could be, because there was no way that he would have been able to resist touching her if they were closer.  Locking his fingers together behind his head, Oliver was sure that his knuckles her white with the effort to restrain himself.

It was a slow, careful demise as Felicity licked and swirled and teased.  Endless teasing.  Long after all the frosting was gone.  But never did she give Oliver the pressure or the suction he needed. 

And Oliver let her.  He let Felicity play.  He enjoyed the show.  And he’d keep doing so until it was...until he just…he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, actually.

“Felicity…”

And the brat chuckled, pulling back just enough to murmur, “I wondered how long it would take before you said something.”

Fucking seriously?  “Fe-li-ci-ty…” And, this time, the growl had bite.  It was her very last warning.

Felicity knew it too, Oliver was certain of that, but still she laughed, which was really something given the fact that she had finally closed her entire mouth over his cock and the lower she slid, the closer the head of his cock got to vibrations in her throat and…it was driving him fucking insane.

God, it was good.

Fuck.  Better than good.  So, so much better.

Clenching his jaw, Oliver threw his head back and fisted his hands together as Felicity finally went at it in earnest.  It was still slow, too damn slow, but so fucking deep, and with the perfect amount of suction and when she reached the top of his cock, she would swirl her tongue and then…when she reached the base she would swallow and…

Fuck.  Damn…Oliver wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle it.

Except, he could and he would.  Oliver was so glad that he’d come like a fucking bullet train less than an hour ago and that he was 32 years-old, because he might not be able to get it up again as fast, but he could make it last and last and last…

Had Oliver said that he didn’t want Felicity to be sore in the morning?  He lied.  He didn’t want her to be able to walk.  For a week. 

Because there was no way in hell Oliver was coming first.

So...okay, how the hell did he express that nicely?

“Felicity, baby, I…uh…if you don’t want me to take over, you’re going to need to...um, move things along.”

So, the little brat sucked harder.  Oliver wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did.  In fact, it was unexpected enough to send his hips bucking up off the bed and he would have worried about hurting he, but Felicity was laughing so…

“That’s not what I meant,” Oliver managed to grit out.  “If you want to stay on top, you’re going to have to get on top.”

That only made Felicity laugh harder (though, Oliver would swear her eyes flashed with arousal).  At least, this time, it wasn’t around his cock.  “So romantic.”

Oliver growled.  On purpose, this time.  “I’m not—”

Felicity sucked on the top of his cock and Oliver made a strangled noise.  “I’m sorry, I can’t understand you,” the minx murmured, her lips and tongue still against him.

“And whose fault is that?” Oliver snapped.  He was losing it.  He started to sit up, but Felicity palms pushed on his abdomen.

“I don’t think that’s how a happy ending works,” Felicity teased, Oliver’s cock butting her in the chin.

“It’s how our happy ending works.”

That got him a melty look and…thank God.  Oliver didn’t want to take this from her, but Felicity wasn’t giving him a lot of choice. 

She (finally) allowed Oliver to pull her up and into a kiss that was a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue and lips.  It was absolutely perfect.  She tasted of salt and sugar, with just the slightest tang of the cream cheese.  All of it mixed with the taste of Felicity that still lingered on Oliver’s tongue.

“I’m still on top,” Felicity warned, her voice low and just a hairs-breath from his lips.

Oliver laughed, breathless.  “Not for long if you don’t get on with it.”

He smacked her ass and Felicity just smirked as she sat back up, murmuring, “Behave.”

But, then, Felicity was reaching back to grasp his cock and Oliver was only too happy to obey.  “Yes, Ma’am.”  He even considered saluting.

Felicity gave him a look, as if she didn’t quite believe he was as compliant as he pretended, but then it didn’t matter…nothing mattered, because she was sinking down onto him, over him, surrounding him…and she was hot and wet and tight and she didn’t stop until Oliver was buried as deep as he could go. 

And Oliver had this gorgeous view, with the perfect light that…it was the same lighting as their very first night together.  The black of night lit only by the soft glow of a hundred candles.  How had he not realized it before?

Maybe because it felt so different.  That was a goodbye and this was…the opposite.  Thank God.

Stretching her arms out, Felicity placed her hands flat on his chest as she started to ride him.  Slow and easy.  Which, really, was just fine with Oliver.  Now that he was inside her, he would just as soon stay there all night long.

But Oliver was done being the casual observer.  He reached out to cup her ass, but when his hand bumped into Felicity’s magic cupcake oil he grinned. 

“Oliver…” Felicity narrowed suspicious eyes at him.

That just made Oliver grin more…wickedly.  He didn’t plan it.  It just came naturally.  A lay over from his wicked past, he supposed.  He poured a generous portion of oil on his hands and rubbed them together.  Then, meeting Felicity’s eyes, he gave her an innocent look that must have looked fake as fuck, since she shook her head and laughed.

But Felicity’s hips didn’t stop those sinful little circles so it was all good.

Smiling, Oliver caught her eyes and held them as he reached out and cupped her breasts, slathering them with the warm, slick oil, his thumbs sliding easily over her nipples while she groaned and stretched, pushing into his touch, arching her back until her hands fell on his upper thighs.

Christ, it was a gorgeous sight.  As was his cock peeking at him rhythmically from those beautiful smooth folds.  Fuck. 

And Felicity’s face slack with lust…her tongue pressed against her top teeth…the sliver of blue visible of her heavy-lidded eyes as she watched him…

Exquisite.

Oliver painted Felicity’s body with oil, from her neck to her thighs, every place he could reach, even slipping down to paint her smooth folds as they clenched and released around his cock.  And, maybe, he detoured to swipe over her nipples a few…dozen times more than necessary, but he avoided her clitoris, skirting close, but refraining from touching it directly.

He could tease too.  And the way Felicity was positioned left that lovely bundle of nerves totally exposed.  With no stimulation, what-so-ever.  Poor...throbbing…beautiful…baby…

“Oli-ver…” Felicity moaned it and he wondered if she’d finally had enough. 

He flicked her nipples in tandem, making her hips lose their rhythm briefly.  Oliver knew how exquisitely sensitive they were.  And, God, he loved the feel of her skin covered in the oil.  He was going to buy a case of it.

“I…I…”

“What, baby?” Oliver grinned, wondering if Felicity was going to break down and beg.  One ‘please’ and he’d go for her clit.  His will power was just about sapped up.

“God!” Felicity gasped, tossing her hair.  “Love you.  I love you.”

And, fuck, those words felt like a punch.  Pleasure streaked through his body and Oliver swore if he was ten years younger he would have come from that alone.  “Fuck, baby, when you say that, I…” Oliver broke off as his voice failed him.

“What?” Felicity prompted, breathless as well as her hips picked up the pace, riding him harder, deeper.

“It makes it so that I really need…” Her lips, Oliver needed her lips. 

He started to sit up, but Felicity put out one hand to push Oliver back down, shaking her head almost deliriously.  “Uh-uh.”

Oliver grunted, catching her hand and pressing a passionate kiss against it.  “God, I love you.”  He bit the meaty part of her palm as she cried out and clenched around him.

“Oliver….” Felicity’s hand brushed his cheek briefly before pulling it back and settling it with the other on his thighs.  Clearly, she wanted the leverage, because she arched her back, throwing her head back and moaning as she changed the rhythm, the circles becoming wider, slower, deeper…

“Fuck…”  Oliver’s hands were an uncoordinated mess as he reached for the oil again.  Taking the entire thing, he poured it between her breasts, watching in fascination as it flowed, so slowly, down her belly and…

Felicity tipped her chin down to watch as well.  Watch as the oil dribbled over her clit, into her pussy, pooling around Oliver’s cock where they were joined.  She whimpered at the sight.

Oliver wanted to whimper as well, but, instead, he smiled and gave himself a moment to enjoy the sight before reaching out with both hands, spreading the oil with his palms, moving in small circles down until his thumbs reached her clit…

Felicity shrieked when he finally found her, losing her rhythm entirely and, God, Oliver loved it when she clenched around him like that.  Fuck, yeah.

His thumb circled the swollen bundle of flesh, coating it with oil as his other hand slipped through her folds, fascinated by the way she stretched around him.  He’d never felt the connection quite so intimately before. The oil began to coat his cock as her slick flesh dragged around him, each pass becoming smoother and faster as the slick changed the friction.

Felicity found her rhythm again, this time with more thrusting and less circling.  The extra lubrication was making her slide faster and easier and Oliver could feel her channel clench around him as if protesting the change and trying to hold him inside.

He switched to two fingers rubbing her clit almost continuously, but she started to moan and he could tell it was in frustration.  Felicity was close, Oliver was sure of it, but now she was too slick to get the traction that she needed.

Bringing the heel of his hand to her clit, Oliver wiped his other hand free of oil before reaching for the small of her back and pulling her forward so he could create enough pressure so that when his other palm grinded against her—

Felicity screamed.

“Ahhh…Ol…fuck!”

That’s his girl!  Oliver wanted to laugh in triumph, but he really didn’t have the breath to waste.  

Instead, he wrapped both arms around her back, pulling her upright as he sat.  Gasping for breath, Felicity grasped Oliver’s neck and let him pull her in, adjusting her legs automatically so they circled his hips. 

Until they were finally nose to nose.  Exactly where Oliver wanted her.

“Hey,” Oliver breathed, smiling.  Christ, he was happy.

Felicity gave him a sleepy, drugged sort of smile and breathless, “Hey,” in return.

“I really like your oil.”

Throwing back her head, Felicity’s laughter filled the room.  “Me, too.”

Oliver leaned in for a soft kiss, but when he tried to draw back, Felicity caught his lower lip between her teeth and wouldn’t let him go.  Grinning, Oliver retaliated by sucking on her upper lip and settling his hand on her ass, adjusting her so he could thrust up and pull her closer at the same time.

Felicity let go of Oliver’s lip as a soft, high-pitched cry fell from her lips, her head tipping back.

Humming with contentment, Oliver eyed the spot behind her ear that he loved so much before attempting to devour it as he guided her hips to meet his in a slow satisfying grind.  Felicity quickly caught the rhythm and pulled his head back so that she could meet his eyes as they made love wrapped around each other, skin to skin, still slick with oil that, somehow, made it feel like they could get closer than ever before.

“I love you,” Oliver murmured.

And Felicity smiled.  “You already said that.”

“Never enough.”

He licked into her mouth and she met his tongue as she met his hips in a slow endless mating, a warm hum of pleasure that went on and on, a feeling of connection that Oliver had never felt with another human being and knew, now, that he never would. 

Oliver wouldn’t have it any other way.

If he said that he had no idea how long they went on like that, he wouldn’t be exaggerating.  Time lost all meaning.  And Oliver was fine with that.  Fine with staying in that moment forever.

But he wasn’t sure either of their bodies agreed.

Felicity was covered in a gorgeous sheen of sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead, her eyes unfocused.  Her head fell back as small mewling sounds fell from her lips.  Senseless, desperate sounds that made pleasure shoot down his spine.  When she started to pull at his shoulders and Oliver knew she needed more.

Tipping her hips, Oliver pulled her almost painfully close, spreading her ass cheeks and grinding her against his hip bone.

Felicity’s eyes flew open and met Oliver’s, her mouth falling open in a wordless cry as her body went rigid…

Oliver lost it.

He flipped her onto her back.  Pulling her legs over his shoulders, Oliver pounded into her to a chorus of her staccato screams until his vision whited out and his muscles tensed, reverberating with the pleasure that echoed through his nerve-endings, until finally every single one of them released.

Oliver had been wrong.  That was the best orgasm of his life.  Not bad for 32.

He barely caught himself from collapsing on top of her.  Oliver threw himself to the side, pulling Felicity with him and…he slipped out…damn it.   But he no longer had the coordination to prevent it.

Curling into him, Felicity threw a leg over Oliver’s flank and an arm across his chest as they both struggled to catch their breath. 

Oliver was actually drifting off when he heard Felicity say, “So…Santino’s?”

Chuckling, Oliver turned his head to look at Felicity’s gorgeously rumpled form.  “You think you can walk down the stairs?”

Felicity’s eyes widened comically, then she shook her head slowly, drawing out a horrified, “Noooo…”

And, again, Oliver laughed, punctuating it this time with a kiss to Felicity’s forehead.

“You could carry me?” Felicity asked hopefully.  “You have lots of practice and I promise to be much less surly about it, given the…reasons.”  She wagged her eyebrows at him.

As perfectly adorable Felicity was and as much as Oliver enjoyed the sentiment… “Do you really think I can stand, never mind carry you?”

This time, it was Felicity’s laughter that filled the room.  Oliver turned his body towards hers and pulled her close so they were chest to chest and he was smiling into her eyes.  “Are you hungry?” Because if she was, he’d get her that damn Santino’s come hell or high water.

But Felicity just yawned.  “Not really, I just thought you—”

Oliver cut her off with a kiss to the tip of her perfect nose.  “I’m good.  How about we rest awhile and then I’ll go get us dinner in bed?”

“But it’s your birthday,” Felicity whined, but even that was adorable, especially since she burrowed closer as she said it.  She seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open.

“It’s the least I can do after making it so hard for you to walk,” Oliver whispered in her ear.

How Felicity managed to roll her eyes without opening them, Oliver would never know, but her chest rumbled with quiet laughter. 

“I can walk after we nap,” Felicity promised.  “Then we can go down together and have Santino’s and counter sex.  I missed counter sex.”

She was really too much.  Oliver felt like he’d never stop smiling.  “You really don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Not particularly, no.”  Her voice was heavy and she yawned again. 

Felicity drifted off almost instantly after that.

Oliver watched her sleep, his thoughts filled with the delicious prospect of counter sex, but he must have drifted off as well, because the next thing he knew it was hours later.  Felicity was sound asleep and the candles were burning low.  He really didn’t think they were having Santino’s tonight. 

Pressing a kiss to Felicity’s forehead, Oliver slipped out of her arms.  If leaving the candles burning all night wasn’t asking for trouble, he’d never get up, but...

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Oliver saw it was still before midnight.  Still his birthday.  Technically.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Oliver blew out the candles one by one.  And with each candle he made a wish.

Oliver wished for the safety of the people he loved.

But when he got to that last candle Oliver hesitated.  Maybe, just one selfish wish would be okay.

Closing his eyes, Oliver wished…not for a happy ending.   He didn’t want an ending.  No, he wanted a beginning.  For things to continue the way that had begun.  Tonight.  He wished for his and Felicity’s long happy life. 

Maybe, Oliver didn’t deserve that, but Felicity did and he would happily devote the rest of his life to making himself worthy.

Oliver blew out that final candle and climbed back into bed before anyone could figure out what a fucking sap he was.

But, hey, it was his birthday.  Maybe, he was allowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Note:**  
>    
> 
> 
> That’s all folks.  I’m very happy to mark _something_ complete.  I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I’m now off to work on **_(Don’t) Let Me Go_** until the Season 6 premiere comes on and fraks with my muse.  Then who knows what will happen.  I should have Chapter 8 up next Sunday.  I split it in two which helps.  It went over 12K and I’ve decided that is my hard upper limit on chapter length.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta’s, **Fairytalehearts, Imusuallyobsessed, and Ireland1733,** for sticking with me. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are so very appreciated.  Or visit me on Tumblr at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/ or Twitter, also Emmilynestill. 
> 
> Happy Reading,
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter felt pretty darn complete when I finished it, but, still, I felt that since it was Oliver’s birthday he needed to have his say.  So there is a second part.  It’s a continuation of this night from Oliver’s pov and I’m very glad I wrote it because I kinda love it.  But because I don’t think it’s needed I put it further down on my editing list and it will be several weeks before part 2 is out as I focus on getting out ( ** _Don’t) Let Me Go_** chapters.
> 
> **_(Don’t) Let me Go_** will be back next week with Chapter 5 and 5x23 missing moments.  After that, the rest of the story will be post finale.  It is looking like I’m not going to be able to finish it properly in the planned 12 chapters and that’s messing with my schedule so we’ll have to see what happens. 
> 
> All my love and gratitude to my fabulous betas **Fairytalehearts, Imusuallyobsessed, and Ireland1733**.  And a special thanks to everyone who takes a minute (or more) to leave a kudo or comments. 
> 
> Visit me on Tumblr at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/ or Twitter, also Emmilynestill.  I would love to chat! (Also, writing updates and sneak peeks will be found there. 


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